Nate Grimes’ thick fingers stretch Devin Franco’s tight hole while he kneels on the counter, his chef’s hat abandoned as the first knuckles disappear. The kitchen table bears plates of food left untouched, only the sound of wet suction and the slow, deliberate pull of a fist breaking through skin matters. Muscles ripple under the light as Devin’s breath hitches, his body arching to take more, the only distraction the way Nate’s knuckles glisten with slick heat.
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