|Description||Meet our newest find, Marco Coello, who might just be the hottest debut talent we've seen in a long time. We're talking Caravaggio's John in the Wilderness level of physical perfection. Every detail of his impetuous face and pristine body look lovingly rendered by an artist. Even the ink that decorates his too perfect arms and chest look like they were painted on with tender, delicate brushstrokes. His small, but perfectly lean body is aerodynamic, fast, and surprisingly ferocious. Raven black hair in a popular Mohawk fade falls over studying eyes. Hands, feet, ass...and that package, looking like it's about to come bursting out of that minuscule speedo.
Enter the asshole, as a shockingly well-defined and perfectly manicured and styled Jobe Zander calmly struts into the fighting space, where black shiny mats look almost inviting in the glow of the lights. Zander wears a blue speedo, and his own package almost steals the thunder from Coello. Zander has never, ever, looked hotter. As these two men circle one another like a pair of tomcats about to pounce, it's hard to know where to look. Zander's ass and thighs...Coello's well defined shoulders and back...Zander's pendulous balls and cock under his speedo...Coello's fuckable face... Wow. This should be good.
"Word has it you're a little cocky," Zander says. Understatement of the century.
The first lockup is long-held and glorious to behold, as thighs muscles are tested and low-hanging, speedo-clad cocks almost brush the floor. Soon the new kid is flat on his back, legs wrenched into impossible shapes and Zander digs in, attacking Coello's precious manhood like it's an enemy at the gate. Fists, feet, knees, and more go to work on Coello's balls, as the pretty new prince screams, curses, and eventually begs for mercy.
"Come on!" Zander cries, crushing Coello's head between his standing thighs and hammering his sweaty back with his bare fist. Soon that fist dives beneath the red sea of Coello's speedo, flossing his ass and groping his balls so tightly the new kid can't even produce intelligible words.
Zander hasn't even broken a sweat by this point, scooping Coello up by his neck and maneuverig him into a soul-crushing back-breaker.
"Wait til I get out of this, mother fucker!" Coello screams, face buried in Zander's clenched armpit.
"I've been waiting," Zander replies calmly, his long, experienced fingers slowly sliding down Coello's abdomen until he grabs the shaft of his cock with all his might, squeezing until Coello's voice goes up an octave.
Zander literally finds every possible way to grope Coello's package, which isn't hard as it's so large and easy to grab. As the match wears on, one can't help but feel sorry for the hot Coello, who proves to be little more than a sniveling bitch on the mat, no match for Zander. One wonders if he might dominate if paired with somebody at his same level. That said, he suffers beautifully, part moaning, part crying, part roaring in fury, part gasping is pain and exasperation, and we gasp with him every time his his speedo is pulled down by the mere weight of his cock, revealing perfect lower abs.
"I'm gonna beat you up!" he sobs, sounding more like an angry adolescent than a muscular wrestler. One thing's for certain, Coello never gives up. He struggles, smacks, resists, and fights his ass off until the very last strangling, punishing hold.
One of our most experienced fighters taking on a debut talent, in a cock smashing, ball busting, crotch crushing battle of wills!
|Size||443.13 MB (464,652,763 bytes)|
|Num files||1 files|