He's Got The Moves

The full moon awakens the primal hunger in Ryan Rose and Andrew Fitch. They tangle on the sheets before sleep claims them, mouths locked in a fervent 69 that sets the air ablaze. Ryan's skin gleams like polished mahogany, a sultry contrast to his pale, rounded cheeks. Andrew's olive tone draws the eye to his nipples, pert and pleading for a twist. Ryan twists his fingers into Andrew's ass like a corkscrew, driving deep until Andrew writhes in bliss. Endorphins flood him; words fail, reduced to a gasped 'yes' as Ryan flips him and eases his thick cock inside. Muscles flex and ripple on Ryan's frame while Andrew's balls swing with each resounding slap of skin on skin. Andrew's back bows, spine curving to meet the mounting force as Ryan thrusts harder, faster, deeper. They switch, Ryan sprawling on his back, one arm hooked behind a thigh to part his cheeks wide for Andrew's probing tongue. Ryan seizes Andrew's head, grinding his face against that hungry hole. Now Andrew plunges his shaft into Ryan, plowing with relentless rhythm, smearing sweat across Ryan's slick torso like warm oil. That vise-like heat clenches around him, milking their sacs until twin ropes of creamy white erupt in shuddering release.