Hunter Blake’s tattooed, muscular frame pins Calvin Pratt’s bald, spread-eagled body down, his fingers probing deep while his mouth seals around the asshole, then switches to the thick cock, swallowing hard as Pratt’s hands grip the sheets. The bald one’s smooth chest rises with sharp breaths, his legs trembling as Blake’s tongue traces the crack before diving back in, fingers curling inside with relentless pressure. No hesitation, no softness, just the, unbroken thrust of hands and mouth working in tandem, the sound of wet suction and the rhythmic slap of flesh against flesh.
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