Not every gym has a fisting bench, but this one does, and Boyhous assumes the position for Race Cooper. Race dunks his fist in a bucket of lube and begins to coax Boyhous’s ass, eliciting a long, low growl. Boyhous’s hairy buns, framed by a black-and-r…
Not every gym has a fisting bench, but this one does, and Boyhous assumes the position for Race Cooper. Race dunks his fist in a bucket of lube and begins to coax Boyhous's ass, eliciting a long, low growl. Boyhous's hairy buns, framed by a black-and-red jock strap, provide little resistance to Race's insistent fist. Race's flawless chocolate torso is bent in a smooth arc and the muscles of his back and shoulders flex as he drives deep, penetrating arm lunges into Boyhous. Boyhous's entire body rises and falls as he reaches back, stretches his hole and protrudes his rosebud for Race until it stands out inches. Race alternates sliding four fingers of each hand into and out of the distended hole in front of him, his palms together. When Boyhous pushes out his rosebud again, Race presses a finger into the hot center. Boyhous dismounts the fisting horse and Race sits on it, his hard cock horizontal, demanding attention. Boyhous sucks it, licks it, and laps at Race's balls, then he wraps both hands around it creating a hole to fuck and Race rams his cock in and out of this makeshift tube, his grunts building to screams as jets of jism pelt Boyhous's face.
