Mike De Marko grips Zane Taylor’s hips, his beard rough against the lean, dark-haired man’s throat as he slams into him from behind on a locker-room bench. Zane’s fingers dig into the wood while Mike’s tongue laps at his asshole, his cock already thick and wet with precome. The bearded man’s muscular chest presses against Zane’s back, his grip tight as he jerks himself off, the sound of flesh slapping skin filling the space between lockers.
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