Daniel Greene kneels behind Dante Colle while his tattooed chest presses into the sheets, fingers already working the tight hole that’s already slick with anticipation. The blond’s mouth seals over the thick cock, tongue tracing the vein before pulling back just enough to let the head reappear, wet and glistening. Colle’s hands grip the sheets, knuckles white, as Greene’s other hand slides between his thighs, fingers probing deep with deliberate pressure. The bed dips under their weight, the only sound the wet smack of lips and the rasp of breath when he finally bottoms out.
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