Steaming Meet of Tanner Valentino & HenryHot20 Part 2 1080p
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He didn’t say much after that moment. Just stared. I could perceive the stress humming inbetween us as we got clad in silence, but his eyes never left me. “Let’s go,” I said. No explanation. No invite. Just a command. He followed. The ride back to my place was quiet—him shifting in his seat, stealing sights when he thought I wouldn’t notice. I spread my gams broad in the driver’s seat, letting the outline of what he’d been craving press against my shorts. I could witness his hatch bob every time we hit a crimson light. By the time we got to my apartment, he was practically vibrating. I left the door unlocked and ambled in first, unclothing my hoodie and throwing it on the couch. “You good?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded, slow and breathless. I leaned back against the kitchen counter, mitts crossed, assets on utter display. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” Henry looked like he dreamed to turn down it. But he couldn’t. Not with the fever in his eyes. Not with the way his sighing had changed. I reached down and adjusted myself, making sure he could witness the shape he’d been obsessing over. “This is what you came for,” I said low and deep. “So don’t waste the moment.” His knees almost gave out. And me? I just smiled. Because I knew—once he got a taste, he’d never witness me the same again. He stepped forth like he couldn’t stop himself, pulled by months of obsession. I didn’t fondle him. I didn’t need to. He was already unsteady, breath shaking, eyes glued to the swelling that had his dreams. When our flesh eventually met, it was electric—chests slick, hearts racing, palms roaming. His lips brushed my neck, desperate and reverent, while I shoveled him back against the wall, taking control like I always do. Clothes dropped fast. The air was ginormous with sweat, nerves, heat. We pressed against each other—bare, hard, polishing like brutes who’d waited too long. Every motion sent a shock thru both of us, the friction palace until it was unbearable. I captured the back of his neck, pulled him closer, and hissed in his ear, “You dreamed this? Then take it.” He moaned—loud, filthy, shameless. And when we finished—messy, panting, figures trembling—it was all over our stomachs, dribbling down each other’s length, super-steamy and raw.
He didn’t say much after that moment. Just stared. I could perceive the stress humming inbetween us as we got clad in silence, but his eyes never left me. “Let’s go,” I said. No explanation. No invite. Just a command. He followed. The ride back to my place was quiet—him shifting in his seat, stealing sights when he thought I wouldn’t notice. I spread my gams broad in the driver’s seat, letting the outline of what he’d been craving press against my shorts. I could witness his hatch bob every time we hit a crimson light. By the time we got to my apartment, he was practically vibrating. I left the door unlocked and ambled in first, unclothing my hoodie and throwing it on the couch. “You good?” I asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded, slow and breathless. I leaned back against the kitchen counter, mitts crossed, assets on utter display. “You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you?” Henry looked like he dreamed to turn down it. But he couldn’t. Not with the fever in his eyes. Not with the way his sighing had changed. I reached down and adjusted myself, making sure he could witness the shape he’d been obsessing over. “This is what you came for,” I said low and deep. “So don’t waste the moment.” His knees almost gave out. And me? I just smiled. Because I knew—once he got a taste, he’d never witness me the same again. He stepped forth like he couldn’t stop himself, pulled by months of obsession. I didn’t fondle him. I didn’t need to. He was already unsteady, breath shaking, eyes glued to the swelling that had his dreams. When our flesh eventually met, it was electric—chests slick, hearts racing, palms roaming. His lips brushed my neck, desperate and reverent, while I shoveled him back against the wall, taking control like I always do. Clothes dropped fast. The air was ginormous with sweat, nerves, heat. We pressed against each other—bare, hard, polishing like brutes who’d waited too long. Every motion sent a shock thru both of us, the friction palace until it was unbearable. I captured the back of his neck, pulled him closer, and hissed in his ear, “You dreamed this? Then take it.” He moaned—loud, filthy, shameless. And when we finished—messy, panting, figures trembling—it was all over our stomachs, dribbling down each other’s length, super-steamy and raw.
Added: 2025-08-18 • Views: 9 • Duration: 9:01
