Charlie Harding leads Caleb Colton to a place of red windows and red light. Caleb’s shirt is a rag and Charlie shreds it off his inked and hairy chest. The friction of Charlie’s roving hands makes the testosterone course through Caleb’s body. Charlie gnaws Caleb’s nipples, laps his armpits, and Caleb’s cock pokes up like a periscope over the top of his jock strap. Ignoring his trapped cock, Caleb spins Charlie around. The back of Charlie’s shorts is split, requiring only some sleight of tongue to drive him two rungs up the fire escape. But escape is not the goal, release is. Charlie and Caleb alternate giving head. With a cock buried in his throat, Charlie’s face is only inches from furry buns hiding a pulsating hole. He separates the cheeks, spits in the cleft, uses two fingers to stretch the entry then drives his cock through. A chute that feels so good should taste good too, so Charlie kneels, working histongue deep into Caleb&rsqu o;s freshly fucked hole. Caleb’s cries punctuate the air as Charlie alternately sucks and fucks him until you can’t tell where the spit ends and the sweatbegins. But there’s no mistaking the skyrocketing finale of jism, Charlie’s share of which quenches Caleb’s thirst for cum.
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