Butt In

Steve Pierce clings to a chain-link fence, legs spread, ass out, and Matt Sizemore’s thick fist is buried to the wrist. Every thrust lifts Pierce higher, sends him slamming back down, the metal rattling with every wet punch. Sizemore’s bare hand vanishes and reappears, knuckles slick, wrist glistening. His own cock strains inside a dirty jockstrap, swells, leaks, then jerks free—hard, heavy, dripping. The thick head darkens, veins stand out, and suddenly a thick rope of cum shoots across the floor. Sweat runs down hairy chests. The slap of skin on skin echoes. Nothing gentle, nothing careful. Just two men and one mean fist doing the job they came for.