Round Up

The scene opens with a straightforward montage of ranch hands toiling under the wide sky. One man lets his gaze linger on his comrade, imagining him stripped bare, his skin slick with sweat and kissed by the sun—a raw emblem of manhood, fused with the untamed surge of the land itself. No gentle fade eases the shift; suddenly, two of them lock lips in a fierce kiss. A third saunters over, drawn in, but pulls away quick to fetch the foreman. He hauls the boss back to the pair of eager studs, pinning his arms high behind his head. The young bucks peel off the foreman's clothes and fall upon his cock, devouring it with hungry mouths. They all shed their layers too, save for those battered cowboy hats, and tangle in a heated blur of bodies. One ranch hand straddles the boss's face, grinding down with his ass. Another thrusts deep, making the foreman swallow every inch. Sunlight rims them in gold as one disembodied cock arcs a slow-motion jet of cum straight into a waiting mouth. Identities blur in the frenzy—who's claiming whom grows hazy—but the scorching instants linger, ripe for relishing.