Koda Gold dominates Riley Ross with a tattooed grip, his muscular frame pressing down as the other squats beneath him, fingers digging into thighs. The red cap stays low, the black strap tight around a wrist that guides him deeper, each thrust measured by the way Ross’s head tilts back. The couch creaks under their weight, hands clutching at fabric or air as Koda’s rhythm turns the scene into, unbroken fucking.
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