Adam Killian’s beard scrapes Ruslan Angelo’s chest as he pins him against the wet sand, their swim trunks riding up to expose the dark-haired one’s tight hole while the slim, smooth-skinned man arches into the grip of his fingers. The ocean hums behind them as Killian’s tongue traces the salt on Ruslan’s lips before diving deeper, his muscular frame pressing down with deliberate weight. Their bodies move in sync, one gripping, the other yielding, until the first rough thrust splits the air.
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