Riding Hard

With every obstacle finally cast aside, Scott approaches the sun-dappled pasture, his heart swelling at the sight of his beloved Mason Wyler. There, in a simple wooden trough filled with clear water, Mason bathes languidly, his lithe body glistening under the open sky. Droplets trace lazy paths down his toned chest and thighs, catching the light like scattered jewels. Scott's gaze lingers, desire igniting. He strips away his clothes, joining Mason in the warm shallows. Their lips meet first—soft, urgent kisses that deepen into something fiercer. Hands roam freely, Scott's fingers gripping Mason's hips, pulling him close until their erections press hard against each other. Mason gasps, arching back as Scott's mouth trails fire along his neck, down to suckle at his nipples. They spill from the trough onto the soft grass, bodies entwining with raw need. Scott enters him slowly at first, then with building rhythm, each thrust drawing moans that echo through the meadow. Mason's legs wrap tight around Scott's waist, nails digging into his back as pleasure builds to a shattering peak. They climax together, breathless and spent, the world fading to just the two of them in that perfect, wild embrace.