Crew

Crewman Nino Bacci wiped down the camera gear, his hands steady from years on set. Hans Ebson lingered nearby, eyes fixed on the gaffer's broad shoulders. 'You inspired me back there,' Hans murmured, stepping close. 'Every thrust, I pictured you.' Nino paused, heat rising. Their lips met tentatively, a brush that deepened into urgent hunger. Tongues tangled. Hands roamed. Hans dropped to his knees, unzipping Nino with eager fingers. He swallowed the thick shaft, sucking hard, lips stretched wide around the girth. Nino groaned, threading fingers through Hans's hair. They switched—Nino's mouth devoured Hans's ass, tongue probing deep into the musky heat, rimming with relentless hunger. Nino's fingers gripped Hans's uncut cock, stroking the foreskin back and forth in slick rhythm, exposing the flushed head before sliding the meaty sheath forward again. Then, clever twist: he stretched that foreskin over his own cockhead, joining their tips in a forbidden sheath. Hans gasped, pushing back. Nino thrust in, fucking that tight ass with raw power, hips slamming home. Hans came first, spilling hot across the floor with a shuddering cry. Nino pulled out, jerking his cock in furious strokes until ropes of cum arced from him, marking the moment's end.