Fistpack 13 - Fist And Shout Part 2

Violator drives his knuckles into Matthieu’s open hole, pushing hard and steady. Matthieu’s back arches, breath ripped out of him. Butch Grand leans in, jockstrap stretched tight over his thick cock, boots planted on either side of the sling. He wraps a gloved hand around his shaft and strokes while he watches. Violator twists his fist, pulls it back, then sinks it deeper until his wrist disappears. Matthieu grunts, teeth bared. Sweat runs down his chest and collects in the leather straps. Butch steps closer, shoves his own gloved fingers inside Matthieu beside Violator’s wrist, stretching the ring wider. Matthieu swears loud and low. The three bodies crowd together—hands, boots, jockstraps, breath hot. Violator slides out, pulls Butch’s jock aside, and lines his slick fist up with Butch’s hole. Butch plants his boots, breathes once, then takes it to the wrist in one hard push. He rocks on the fist, jaw tight, jerking his cock fast. Matthieu climbs up behind Violator, works three fingers, then four, into Violator’s ass, opening him quick and rough. Violator’s shoulders tense, then he opens. Matthieu buries his fist inside him, knuckles grinding deep. All three men cycle through each other, fists sinking and sliding, leather creaking, boots planted, jockstraps dark with sweat. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping wet skin, low growls, and the sharp slap of fists driving home. 2006. Three men. No mercy, no letting up.