Max Konnor grips his cock hard, his dark hair slick with sweat as he strokes fast, the muscles in his arms rippling with every pull. Grayson Lange watches from beside the couch, his beard shadowed against the dim light, fingers already tracing the outline of his own length before joining in. The air thickens with the sound of skin against flesh, both of them lost in the rhythm of their hands.
+13+12+11+10+9+8
