Contact
Crash pins Braxton's arm to the table in their spur-of-the-moment arm-wrestling bout, a sly grin claiming his prize. They tumble onto the pool table, lips crashing in heated kisses, hands itching to cue up each other's sticks and balls. Crash's fingers wrap around Braxton's thickening cock, stroking it firm and insistent. Braxton seizes Crash's shaft, dropping to his knees to swallow it deep, then nuzzles those flawless balls, his tongue teasing each one with wicked precision. Crash flips the script, shoving Braxton back onto the green felt and devouring his erection with ravenous pulls, sucking like a starved infant at the breast. He spreads those cheeks and laps at Braxton's ass, circling the tight ring before plunging his tongue inside. Slick and ready, Crash eases his dick into that primed hole, pounding the blond jock with smooth, even thrusts that build to a frantic rhythm. They trade places—Braxton mounts Crash with equal fire, slamming home until ecstasy shatters him, spilling his load in hot, pulsing jets.
Directors:Paul Barresi













