Staxus says: Is it really any surprise that Ezra Gibson appears unable to sit down and relax? Why, the boy’s quite literally little more than a bundle of nervous excitement, and when you realize that he’s waiting for hunky new guy, Boris Lang, to get back from his run in the country you begin to understand his predicament.
After all, who wouldn’t find their emotions churned up at the prospect of welcoming home this sweaty beaut? Lang’s a real handsome stud, after all, a fine example of toned, muscled athleticism.
And suffice it to say that Gibson displays little if any reticence in making his intentions clear to his buddy right from the moment he returns; passionately smooching the fellow, and making an energetic beeline to get inside his pair of very skimpy shorts.
It’s a fucking fine welcome if ever there was one, and suffice it to say that Lang makes the most of it, savouring the feel of Gibson’s tongue as it first runs up and down every inch of his shaft and then darts up into his butt-hole.
Little wonder that the hunk literally cannot wait to force his horny slut of a mate over the sofa so that he can ram his thick, throbbing weapon deep into that hungry arse; pounding away like a piston, and only pausing momentarily so that Gibson can incorporate a further heady slurp on his dick, all captured artfully (and beautifully) by John Smith’s unforgiving lens.
All of which leads inexorably to the sight of the hyper horny bottom riding Lang’s knob cowboy-style, before taking on his back with both his legs strained apart like a bitch. Cue spunk in all directions, most notably over Gibson’s face.