"God, I'm close," mumbles Jack, smudging kisses against any part of Kavinsky that he can reach. He squeezes his fingers, rocks into him, the rhythm hard and deep. "Are you..."
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"God, I'm close," mumbles Jack, smudging kisses against any part of Kavinsky that he can reach. He squeezes his fingers, rocks into him, the rhythm hard and deep. "Are you..."