Musclebear’s Bar Fuck

In the dim haze of a cruising bar, I spot a towering Polish musclebear: tattooed muscles, sweat-matted fur, thick bulge straining his jeans. I drag him to the shadows, rip off his shirt, and free his fat uncut cock—veiny, throbbing, already leaking.He growls “Fuck me hard” as I spit-finger his furry hole. I plunge in raw, pounding his beefy ass against the wall; his muscles flex with every powerful thrust, sweat pouring.Switching roles, I drop and worship that massive shaft: lips stretched wide, tongue lapping salty pre-cum. He fists my hair, face-fucks me deep till he erupts—hot ropes of thick cum flooding my throat, swallowing every musky drop.