Fistpack 16 - Hand It Over

Aaron slicks both hands and sinks them deep. One at first, then the second slides in. Mason rides those fists like he was built for it, letting loose long raw groans each time his hole swallows another inch. Sweat beads on his chest while Aaron works him open, slow, steady, brutal. Three times Aaron milks the cream from Mason’s cock, each load slicking Mason’s belly while his hole opens wider, wet and pulsing, blooming around Aaron’s wrists. The room fills with the wet sound of skin sliding into skin and Mason’s ragged breath begging for more. Boot leather creaks each time Mason spreads wider, taking it all.