Manuel Skye grips Andy Star’s hips, his tattooed arms flexing as he drives deep into the red couch, while Star’s dark hair falls forward as he sucks Skye’s cock with tight, deliberate strokes. The ropes bind Star’s wrists behind him, leaving his hole exposed as Skye fingers him open, then slams back in with rough, unrelenting thrusts. His own fist works Skye’s shaft, matching the rhythm of their bodies as Star moans around the cock in his mouth. The only sound is the wet slap of skin and the rasp of breath, no words, just the relentless pull of two men locked together.
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