Seven Dixon is cruising for trouble. He paces the alley in a black jockstrap and a tight t-shirt that he pulls up to expose his furry washboard abs, and his neck is inked with a numeral 7. Trenton Ducati watches. They face off like animals in heat, daring the other to make the first move. Seven wants it bad and slaps his ass in an invitation for Trenton to come and take it. The two make contact; Seven crawls on his knees to suck Trenton¬ís hard on. Now that he¬ís warmed up, Trenton comes at Seven with his hands, lips, tongue, teeth, and nose, serving up a blazingly hot blow job and rim job. Finally Seven gets his ass filled the way he wants it; his muscular hole is a tight sheath gripping Trenton¬ís cock. The pace quickens and the depth increases, sweat covers every inch of inked skin. Their hedonistic energy reaches a fever pitch and Seven can¬ít help shooting his load. Trenton feeds Seven his own load without missing a stroke. Finally Trenton pulls out and smothers Seven¬ís cock with his own manseed, leaving it dripping like an icicle in hell.