Woody Fox grips Donnie Dean’s hips as he drives into his asshole hard, the stocky man’s breath ragged against the dirt beneath them, while the dark-haired one licks his hole with slow, deliberate strokes. Donnie moans low as Woody’s fingers probe deeper, his own mouth sealing around the other’s cock with tight suction, the outdoor barn and wooden fence fading into the background. The green blankets stretch thin beneath them as Woody fucks him rough, his grip bruising, while Donnie’s tongue traces every crease of his asshole.
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