Our gorgeous splits

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The sound of heavy breathing bashes your perceives first, then a long, milky shinbone and a wooly calf. The utter photograph unveils ample Byron Saint on his back, one knee into his torso as Race Cooper screwdrivers his gloved knuckle into Byron's ass. Byron jerks as the intrusion reaches the middle of Race's forearm. Race eliminates his knuckle and re-lubes, smoothing lubricant over Byron's gigantic sack of babymakers so they glisten. At 6-foot-5, there's a bunch of Byron; his toned assets is as skinny as it is long, with sparse hair, except for his sexy calves. He holds his gams broader as he relaxes. Race taunts the perimeter of Byron's hole by tracing a fingertip around and around the rim until the opening blossoms red. Race proceeds handballing with his right hand, but now his left hand is busy, too. He's got a mean stiff on that he strokes in counterpoint to his moving fist. Byron rests one sole on his shoulder and asks Race to spunk for him, getting busted with hot, milky spooge.