The Abysse, Part 1

Seamus O'Reilly flashes that smirk and crooks his finger at Matt Wylde. Matt lunges in, tongue first, the two of them grabbing at smooth skin and stiff dicks until the air feels electric. Seamus pops open his jeans and lets his thick eight-inch cock swing free. Matt drops without a word, spits on it, and starts working the shaft with wet, hungry strokes. Matt pulls a fat plug from his bag, slathers it, and presses it against Seamus. The ginger sinks down, taking the whole thing while Matt keeps his mouth busy on that cock. Each bounce forces the plug deeper; Seamus groans, hole stretched tight around the blunt head. Plug out, fist in. Seamus squats, impales himself, rides knuckles and wrist in steady, hungry strokes. Matt twists, opens him wide, then yanks free just to watch the slick rosebud pulse and gape. Ink ripples across Seamus’ back every time he slams down again. Matt lifts one of Seamus’ legs, plants his fist back where it belongs, and drives in to the wrist. Seamus shudders, breath ragged, hole clenching around the forearm as they finish the scene in a slick, gasping knot of bodies.