Trent Locke grips a tree trunk while Donny Wright kneels, his beard rough against Locke’s chest as he licks and sucks until he’s fingering him open. The bearded man shoves his fingers deep, then takes Locke’s cock in his mouth while Locke pins him against the bark, his own hands gripping Donny’s hips as he slams into him. The woods swallow their grunts, the cap on Locke’s head shifting as he rims Donny’s hole before driving his length inside.
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