Brad curls his hand around Nate's neck and tugs him closer, tilting Nate's head up for his kiss, mating lips and tongue tentatively at first, and then with increasing ardor, until they push forward, occupying each other's space with their bodies. Brad is perfectly willing to melt backwards against the wall with the solid press of Nate, from his lips to his chest to his dick, heavy against him, but when he tries, Nate tenses. His grip on Brad's shoulder doesn't loosen, though.
I....las;kdhg;ladsjg GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING, that is quite an image!
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I....las;kdhg;ladsjg GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING, that is quite an image!