Warehouse Fists, Gig 1

Download HD Video (1.1 GB)


The sound of strenuous breathing hits your feels first, then a long, milky shinbone and a fur covered calf. The utter picture exposes ginormous Byron Saint on his back, one knee into his pecs as Race Cooper screwdrivers his gloved knuckle into Byron's ass. Byron jacks as the foray reaches the middle of Race's forearm. Race removes his knuckle and re-lubes, smoothing lubricant over Byron's big sack so they glisten. At 6-foot-5, there's a bunch of Byron; his toned figure is as thin as it is long, with sparse hair, except for his handsome 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 continues handballing with his right hand, but now his left mitt is busy, too. He's got a mean rock hard on that he wanks in counterpoint to his moving fist. Byron rests one sole on his shoulder and asks Race to jism for him, getting splattered with hot, milky spooge.