Max Mabry’s lips stretch taut around Hatler Gurius’ veiny cannon, his throat convulsing as the older stud’s cock drills past his gag reflex. Spit drools down Max’s chin, pooling on his heaving abs as Hatler fists his hair, dictating the pace. “Swallow it, twink,” Hatler snarls, his ink-covered arms flexing like coiled serpents as he ravages the younger star’s mouth. The camera captures every grotesque detail: Max’s nostrils flaring against Hatler’s pubes, his tongue lashing the underside of the shaft, the raw slorp of cock sliding through slobber.
Then—abruptly—it’s anal. Hatler flips Max onto all fours, his tattooed torso looming over the twink’s trembling back. No lube, no mercy. His thick head breaches Max’s hole with a wet pop, sinking balls-deep in one brutal stroke. Max’s scream drowns in the sheets as Hatler pounds, the slap of leather against sweat-slick skin echoing like gunfire. “Take it, slut!” Hatler growls, his hands clawing Max’s hips, bruising the flesh as he pistons deeper, seeking marrow. Max’s ass gapes, clenching rhythmically around the invader, milking it like a vice.
Climax detonates in volcanic ropes. Hatler’s roar rattles the walls as he floods Max’s guts, his cock throbbing inside the twitching hole. But he’s still hard—fucking steel—and yanks Max up by the hair, shoving his spent, cum-coated shaft into the twink’s mouth. “Clean it,” he barks, as Max gags, lips smearing jizz across Hatler’s shaft. The camera zooms in: Max’s tear-streaked face, Hatler’s inked fist gripping his skull, the glistening ruin of Max’s ass leaking their mess onto the sheets.
This isn’t sex. It’s a claiming. Max’s “fuckhole” gets baptized in Hatler’s dominance—and both know the twink will beg for more.
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