Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)Photo by 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 π«πžπ¬π©π¨π§π¬π’π›π’π₯𝐒𝐭𝐲. (@DilfWebs)
tell me something i don’t know. parting his lips around his thick tip, taking him in slowly.
and the prettiest. sliding undies off, pink tip smacking him in the lips.
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his nipples are already peaked, torturously stiff under the thin, sweaty material of tank. every slow drag of declan’s thumb sends a sharp, electric jolt straight down his spine. he hisses, inhaling at the younger man’s touch.
obedient older men… the best. his eyes are nowhere near the other’s, instead gawking at that rack that he wastes no time and starts groping with his large hand, fingers moving around, thumb intentionally rubbing over covered nipples.
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and he’s rolling his eyesβ€” you know, i’m trying to talk here …
I said ––– once again distracting peter from whatever he is saying by grabbing onto his crotch, siluetee very noticeable.
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peter let out a low, lazy hum as declan’s thumbs dragged over his nipples againβ€”sharp little flicks that made his chest jump under the tank. he didn’t pull away. just sank heavier into declan’s body, letting all that solid warmth hold him up while his own hips rocked back in ++
thumb flicking at the visible nipples, hot warm and eager as his lips graze the older man’s neck, hands exploring his shamelessly, letting him rest back against firm bodyβ€” lazily rutting against his clothed ass, tired still. β€œmhhhhhm.”
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slow, filthy answer to the lazy grind behind him. β€œthat all you got this morning? just humping me like a tired dog?”
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peter felt declan’s breath hot against his neck, those big hands still shamelessly kneading his pecs like dough. he let his head tip back a little, just enough to rest against declan’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded in the mirror as he watched their reflection. β€œhello to you too.”
large hands grip onto his tank top covered tits, crotch pressing right against his ass, grin stretched onto his lips. heaven.
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mhm. that’s right.
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