At Arm's Length 2

Simon Cox and Rob Edwards lay head to head on a sling hung from the ceiling. Paul Skylar sinks his fist past the elbow into Cox while Jackson Price pounds the same rhythm into Edwards. Push. Pull. Push. The two tops work like they share one twisted engine. Sweat rolls down bare skin. The smell of leather and musk thickens. Cox grunts, knuckles clenched around the chains. Edwards arches, hole stretched wide. Their bodies jerk in time, caught between two driving fists. Price switches angle and sinks deeper. Skylar matches him, forearm flexing. Every thrust jolts the sling, metal links rattling. The four men are locked in a 2007 fuck that never lets up, pushing limits, swapping spit and heat until the air itself feels raw.