Jack King and Jimmy Johnson pin Johnny Rapid to the bars, his uniform stripped away as they take turns gripping his hips, one with a tattooed forearm, the other with a shaved jaw and a bareback thrust that leaves him gasping. The cop’s dark hair glistens as he kneels between Johnny’s legs, fingers already slick with his own need, while Jack looms behind, his muscular frame pressing down as he drives into him without hesitation. The metal framework bites into Johnny’s back, but he doesn’t fight, just arches up, taking every rough, unprotected stroke.
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