Description ▼
Dante Colle grips your hips and drives in from behind at a pace that never wavers — deep, steady strokes that pin you down and keep you there. His chest stays flat against your back on every push, body heat soaking through while the pressure builds without mercy. You feel every inch on the pull-back before he sinks in again, and that grinding rhythm doesn’t let up long enough for you to think straight. Sweat slicks the skin between you as his hips snap forward and your breath comes out ragged each time he bottoms out.
