Bareback Ranch

Logan Cross stands by the roadside, thumb out, eyes hungry for more than a lift down the endless highway. Fortune smiles when Ryan Rose, his body carved like a rancher's dream, rumbles by in his battered pickup, fresh off a sweat-soaked shift. He pulls over, hauls Logan aboard. The old trucker wisdom rings true—no free rides; it's ass, gas, or grass. Logan dives in without a word, face buried in Ryan's lap as the truck barrels on, engine humming beneath their heat. Ryan grins, sensing wildfire in this hitchhiker. He veers off the blacktop, straight to his spread, Bareback Ranch, where the real ride begins. He slams Logan down, unleashing that thick, throbbing cock, pounding deep and relentless. Skin slaps against skin. Logan arches, taking every inch, until Ryan erupts—a massive flood spilling over and flooding that tight ass, marking the stranger as his own.