D'Arclyte’s thick fingers split Sebastian’s hole open as he grips the harness straps, his knuckles slick with spit and oil, while the bearded man kneels behind, tongue deep in the tight ring. The shaved-headed one leans over the cuffed wrists, his muscular arms flexing as he guides the stretch, fingers already probing the same dark entrance. Leather bites into skin, breath hitches, no words, just the wet sounds of a fist working its way in.
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