Fistpack 5 - Anal Tap

Taurus sinks his fist into Matthieu Paris, and the room goes electric. The year is 2005. One man opens, the other takes. Matthieu’s hole blooms wider with every driven punch, pink ring stretched to obscene circles. Taurus works past knuckles, past wrist, driving until his elbow vanishes in hot flesh. Matthieu’s cock, already a solid ten inches, pulses thick and veined above his abs. He strokes it slow, then faster, riding the pressure. A second fist joins the first, double depth, and Matthieu’s breath turns ragged. Each thrust rocks him forward. Sweat shines on skin. Then the surge hits. A thick arc of piss blasts upward, jetting three feet high while Taurus twists his fists inside. Matthieu keeps jerking, cock spitting, hole clenching around the invasion. Pure intensity, nothing held back.