Madrid Sexy

Valentino Porto and Alex Marte stroll arm in arm through the bustling city streets, their smiles lighting up the afternoon. They pause often, stealing deep kisses that linger just a beat too long. Alex towers a head above, his barrel chest straining against his shirt, beard framing a rugged jaw, body a map of thick hair and bold ink. Valentino contrasts him sharply—slimmer, smooth as silk from chin to his bare pubes. Daddy-boy dynamic? Spot on. But Valentino adds a wicked edge: that tongue of his, a maestro that demands applause. It traces Alex's lips with teasing precision, flicks a nipple to hardened peaks, or coils around Alex's thick cock like a flag snapping in the wind, leaving him breathless. Alex wields his own tongue with purpose, probing Valentino's tight hole, businesslike and insistent. No name fits the guttural gurgle rumbling from Alex's throat as he buries himself deep, Valentino's plump bubble buns clamping his face in a velvet vise. Those buns, slick and ready, invite the main event. On a sun-drenched balcony, the fucking ignites—Alex drives in hard, claiming every inch. Daddy never misses a chance to prove his affection, his rough hands rubbing Valentino's back, fingers stroking his neck. Valentino squirms in pure bliss, sucking those fingers with greedy delight, his tongue working its spell once more. At the peak, it laps up the thick ropes of spooge Alex blasts across his face, savoring every salty drop.