Above, a perky backside jutted out, clad in bizarre underwear: a white waistband with thin straps that framed the cheeks but left the tanned, firm flesh exposed, dipping between the thighs to reveal everything. “And little miss wifey doesn’t ask questions? Gay sex Brody stepped behind, parting Jaxon’s cheeks, his rough middle finger probing the tight ring before plunging in. Check it—made you my lock screen.” He flashed the screen: Jaxon sprawled on those filthy mattresses, a soccer sock stuffed in his mouth, legs spread, hole leaking, his own release splattered across his face and chest. The sheer size forced Shawn’s movements to be wide, sweat dripping from his headband, his open mouth spilling lewd cries. Doggy style—perfect for bitches like you. The sheer girth and length stretched Jaxon’s mouth, the head hitting deep, like it was punching his gut. Long, get over here and work your Master’s piece good.”Coach Long? He moaned too, lost in it. He lounged against the wall, his shaft jutting up like a sharpened blade, pulsing with raw, animalistic power.Shawn moved to straddle him, but Brody stopped him.
