Cowboy Jacks

Kurt Stefano and Rod Barry, those rough-hewn cowpokes brimming with cocky swagger, circle each other like predators in heat. They know the lay of the land, wasting no time as they drop to their knees and wrap their lips around those thick, fleshy saddlehorns—sucking hard, tongues swirling with raw hunger. Spit slicks their chins; moans rumble deep in their throats. Rod grips Kurt's shaft, pumping it fierce while his mouth works overtime, drawing out every twitch and throb. Kurt retaliates, shoving Rod back and mounting him like a wild stallion, pounding into that tight ass with relentless force. They buck and grind, bodies slick with sweat, neither yielding an inch—crazed bronco busters locked in a frenzy that defies the bucking. All the while, Brian Daniels lounges nearby, eyes glued to the spectacle, his hand fisting his own cock in slow, building strokes until he erupts in a shuddering climax, ropes of cum spilling over his fist.