Down Home

Jeff steps out of the General Store, and Dylan Fox intercepts him with a knowing grin. These old friends haven't crossed paths in years, yet their locked gazes speak volumes—raw hunger flickering between them. Smooth-skinned Dylan, all easy charm and sharp handsomeness, pairs with Adam Archer's lean, wired frame to coax Jeff toward the barn, their pull magnetic and swift. Inside, urgency ignites. Adam dives in first, his tongue tracing feverish paths over Dylan's ass, devouring every inch with sloppy zeal. Dylan reciprocates, swallowing Jeff's thick shaft down his throat in greedy gulps, lips stretched wide around the pulsing heat. They tumble into a frenzy, bodies slick and urgent. Jeff claims Dylan then, slamming his massive cock deep into the young athlete's yielding hole—thrusts building, relentless. Harder he drives, pinning Dylan in surrender, while Dylan laps at Adam's firm, muscled ass, tongue plunging like a promise unkept. The barn door flies open. Kris Lord strides in, no stranger to the scent of sweat and lust hanging thick in the air. He's here to stake his claim. Without a word, he sinks his rigid cock into Dylan's eager ass, joining the tangle. Four bodies twist and grind in a heated rhythm, cocks plunging, mouths feasting—a symphony of slick skin and guttural moans. They chase release together, each stud erupting in thick, ropes of cum, sealing their perfect, primal accord.