Jack Bailey’s tattooed arms grip Romeo Davis’s hips while his mouth seals tight around the lean man’s cock, the dark hair on his chest pressed flush against Davis’s skin. Davis leans back against the pole, his own inked forearms flexing as Bailey’s tongue works deep, the suction so hard it pulls a choked groan from his throat. The leaner’s fingers tangle in Bailey’s hair, guiding the rhythm as his own cock throbs against the grip of Bailey’s lips.
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