Michael Boston kneels with his broad, tattooed chest pressed against the floor, his thick arms flexing as he grips Ethan Sinns’ hips, muscular, his dark hair slicked back, while the blond’s hole glistens under his tongue. The air hums with the wet sound of his fingers tracing Michael’s ass, then slipping inside, before Ethan turns, his back arched as Michael’s cock slides deep.
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