Fistpack 8 - Elbow Room

Rodd Ryder meets Chad Thomas in 2006. The young guy lies back on the table and opens wide for his first time taking a fist. Chad works him slow, then deep. Boots planted on the steel, legs spread, Ryder’s pierced cock swings hard with every thrust of the other man’s arm. He stays rock hard while Chad sinks past the wrist, knuckles pressing, searching for that sweet spot that makes him grunt and leak. When Chad finally pulls out the lube and gloves, Ryder moans like he’s been waiting his whole life for it. His hole takes the knuckles, stretches, then clamps down around the thick forearm. Sweat runs down his chest. Chad keeps pumping, fist moving in short, deliberate strokes, knuckles rubbing the inside walls until Ryder’s cock jumps and sprays across his own stomach. Still filled, he milks every drop. Chad keeps the hand inside him until the last twitch dies, then eases out, leaving a wet, open hole and two spent loads dripping onto the floor.