Dale Savage’s tattooed, shaved head and muscular frame dominate as he grips Drew Sebastian’s asshole with brutal precision, while the third man, slim, balding, and in clerical robes, presses his lips against the stretched hole, fingers already working inside. The wooden pews creak under their weight as Dale’s fist stretches Drew wider, the clerical collar slipping loose as his own hole is opened by the third man’s relentless tongue. No words, no hesitation, just the, unfiltered force of a fisting session where every thrust and suck is measured in inches.
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