Zack Mercer’s beard scrapes Landon Wright’s throat as he grips his hips, fingers already working his hole while the strap-on hums against his ass. The dark-haired one moans around his own fingers, tongue tracing the crack of his ass before pulling back to lick the slickness from his knuckles. Mercer pins him down, the strap-on gliding in slow, deliberate thrusts as Wright’s breath hitches between gasps.
