Dave Circus fucks Jordan Jacobs

Dave Circus pins Jordan Jacobs over the locker room bench, his grip tight on the smaller man’s hips as he drives in hard, the sound of flesh slapping wetly against skin. Jordan’s head is buried in the bench, his fingers digging into the padded edge as Circus pulls back and slams home again, the rhythmic thrusts rough and unapologetic. The air smells of sweat and disinfectant, the bench’s cold metal biting into their skin as Circus grips his own cock, stroking it in time with the deep, punishing strokes. Before that, his mouth was on Jordan’s ass, tongue working the tight ring while fingers probed deeper, then his own cock was in his fist, jerking fast as he watched Jordan’s body jerk under him.