
Brody Meyer's jeans hang open. Greg Dixxon stands in just a jockstrap. They grapple on concrete, boots scraping. Brody drops to his knees, tongue working deep between Greg's hairy cheeks, then swallows his thick cock whole. They trade places on the cold metal table. Brody climbs on first, taking Greg raw, then flips and slams in himself. Every thrust echoes off the empty walls. Spit flies. Sweat drips. Their hairy bodies slap together until both shoot hard, balls tight and drained.
Brody Meyer's jeans hang open. Greg Dixxon stands in just a jockstrap. They grapple on concrete, boots scraping. Brody drops to his knees, tongue working deep between Greg's hairy cheeks, then swallows his thick cock whole. They trade places on the cold metal table. Brody climbs on first, taking Greg raw, then flips and slams in himself. Every thrust echoes off the empty walls. Spit flies. Sweat drips. Their hairy bodies slap together until both shoot hard, balls tight and drained.