Joseph Hart’s dark hair frames a body built for control as he grips Ozzy Dean’s hips, fingers digging into muscle while Cole Fever kneels behind, his tongue already tracing the thick vein of Ozzy’s cock. Ozzy’s breath hitches as Joseph’s palm slaps down on his ass, marking the spot before Cole’s lips wrap tight around the base, teeth scraping just enough to make Ozzy’s knees buckle. The air hums with the wet sound of Cole’s mouth working, Joseph’s grip never loosening as Ozzy’s hands claw at the sheets.
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