Twink On Twink: Taylor Mason & Taylor Jay
This week, from Hung Young Brit, two Taylors, Taylor Mason and Taylor Jay, who have impressive session for the site. The demolished interior reeks of fresh adhesive and sawdust. Wallpaper curls like dead skin from moisture-warped drywall. A steamer hisses nonstop beside toppled paint cans in the hallway, fogging cracked mirrors propped against baseboards. Two ladders bracket the corridor–one splattered with primer, the other supporting Taylor’s bare thighs as Taylor Mason kneels between them. Both share the same name, not the same restraint.
Mason’s shirt hangs shredded near a toolbox spilling screwdrivers. Dust motes swarm the air, clinging to sweat-slicked abs as palms slide over denim zippers. Their earlier demolition work–installing chrome douche nozzles in the bathroom–lies abandoned. Lips lock against the din of a drill charging nearby; belts clatter onto plywood flooring. Mason’s fingers hook into Taylor’s waistband, yanking downward to reveal flushed, hairless skin.
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Mirror fragments capture it all: Mason’s tongue tracing Taylor’s inner thigh, the swollen red tip of his cock bobbing against a ladder rung. Taylor arches, gripping the aluminum frame as Mason stands–still wearing steel-toe boots–and thrusts in dry. The steamer erupts again, jetting vapor across their tangled limbs. Rhythm builds brutally and unmediated; Taylor’s choked gasps sync with the thud of Mason’s hips slamming against asscheeks.
Debris rains from shelves with each violent push. A half-empty paint roller slips, streaking emerald latex down Mason’s spine as he pistons deeper. Pupils blown, Taylor claws at the ladder, knuckles whitening until release surges–thick ropes firing across Mason’s pecs and chin. Mason follows moments later, grunting through clenched teeth as he empties himself, semen dripping onto drop cloths smeared with spackle.
