Fistpack 2 - Ass Masters

Carlos Morales drops to his knees in front of Tom Vacarro, boots still on, thick cock already pressing against tight leather. He reaches up, grabs that big dick, and starts working it with both hands before sliding one finger inside himself, testing the stretch. Vacarro watches him, breathing hard, then pushes Carlos onto his back. The dildo comes out next—thick, black, relentless. Carlos takes it without hesitation, moaning loud as Vacarro works it deep, twisting, pulling, driving it in again. Sweat beads on Carlos’s chest. Then comes the real thing. Vacarro coats his fist in lube and starts opening him up, one knuckle at a time. Carlos grunts, legs spread wide, boots planted on the mattress. The room fills with wet sounds and raw breathing. Vacarro pushes further, wrist disappearing, every inch deliberate. Carlos arches up, taking it, his hole gripping tight around the forearm. Vacarro doesn’t stop until Carlos is shaking, breathing ragged, lost in the stretch. This is 2002, Ass Masters, and these two know exactly how far they can take it.