Slot vol.2

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Alone in a dingy cell, Joe Parker has only a closed-circuit TV forpany. He sees men fucking. Joe has no manage over the screen. A nude bulb swinging overhead casts shadows. A thin line of hair leads to the rod Joe is massaging thru his muddy briefs. Dark hairs curl over the neckline of his t-shirt. Joe's isolation is loosened when Adam Ramzi is shove into his cell. Joe responds like a lion at feeding time in the , flinging himself onto the offering, nibbling his lips, tearing his clothes to get at his cock. Adam's bewilderment succumbs to the surging pleasure released by Joe's mouth. He grabs Joe's shoulders and flings him onto the cot, returning the fellate job with equal fervor. If Joe's rod were any harder, it would shatter. Adam squashes Joe's nut sack and drives his tongue into the cleft inbetween his buns. They lie belly-to-belly, the sweat on their furry torsos mingling. Adam reaches for Joe's cock, aims it at his hole and impales himself on it in one single thrust. They knock foreheads, Joe shoving up and Adam shoving back. pose and missionary pose follow, never missing a beat. Adam's supercharged nut sack propel a phat fountain of jizz across his torso. Joe's orgasm is no less intense, scattering ball butter in a wide arc.