Tomas Brand’s beard scrapes against Dan Saxon’s jaw as he grips his waist, fingers digging into the muscle of his back while they kiss with rough, open mouths. The blue towel beneath them stains with sweat as Brand pins Saxon’s hips down, his own long hair falling forward to obscure the way he pulls at the other’s cock. Whitewashed walls loom behind them, but the only thing that matters is the way Saxon’s breath hitches when Brand’s tongue finds the seam of his ass.
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