Alessio Romero’s striped hoodie might be mistaken for prison garb. Maybe it’s that vaguely threatening aspect that draws Shane Frost. The usually preppy Shane sports several days’ growth of beard and looks pretty streetwise. They grab the front of each other’s hoodies and lock lips. The boner tenting Shane’s pants looks like the handle of a hammer, inciting Alessio to help himself, grabbing a handful of cock and balls to stuff in his mouth. Shane is eager to reciprocate, and he obeys Alessio’s command of “all the way down” until he foams at the mouth and his nose runs. When he’s giddy from oxygen deprivation, Alessio pushes him onto a table, spreads his legs apart and dives into his ass tongue-first. It’s so good, it needs to be fucked, so Alessio pummels his way to Shane’s hot core, not stopping until he’s basted Shane’s balls with cum
