Arad Winwin pins Ruslan Angelo against the rail, his grip tight as Ruslan’s lips part for the first thrust of his tongue. The lean, smooth-skinned man arches into the pressure of fingers working his hole while Arad’s tattooed forearm flexes, holding him steady. Their mouths crash together as Ruslan’s dark hair falls forward, obscuring the view of his hole glistening with anticipation.
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