Like the poles of attracting mags, Jeremy Stevens' cock points up and Connor Maguire's cock points down. Jeremy has only the barest scattering of body hair while Connor's chest hair is long enough to yank. They are equally matched in lust, flicking tongues and nipples until Connor sits and inhales Jeremy's cock. He swallows Jeremy's swift sword with ease and skill, his broad shoulders showing off a nice bit of pectoral cleavage that glistens from the saliva dripping off his lips. When they trade positions, Jeremy curls his arm around Connor's flanks to narrow the distance between cock and mouth. It's a tossup who will top, but Connor's the one. Jeremy kneels and looks over his shoulder as Connor plows away at his hole. They roll onto a mat, like wrestlers, and Jeremy lies spread-eagled while Connor goes the distance on his stretched hole. Jeremy's eyes roll back into his head as he shoots across his torso and Connor shoots across his face, his cum mingling with Jeremy's sweat.
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