The Breach, Part 2: Surrender

Deep in the whispering woods, Jeremy Jordan and Jason Hawke pitched their tent under a canopy of ancient pines. Distant reports of criminals prowled the evening news, but the two men shrugged it off, their minds fixed on a more primal urge. Jeremy's fingers traced the hard line of Jason's jaw, pulling him close. Jason's breath hitched as Jeremy's hand slipped lower, cupping the growing bulge in his jeans. They stripped with urgent efficiency—shirts tossed aside, pants kicked into the underbrush. Jason dropped to his knees on the soft earth, his mouth enveloping Jeremy's thick cock in one slick, hungry motion. Jeremy groaned, threading fingers through Jason's hair, thrusting gently as wet heat swallowed him whole. Saliva glistened on Jason's lips; he sucked harder, tongue swirling the sensitive underside, drawing out low, guttural moans. Jeremy's hips bucked, chasing release, but he pulled back just as Jason's own arousal strained against the night air. They switched, Jason standing tall while Jeremy knelt, taking him deep, cheeks hollowing with each pull. Pleasure built like a storm, bodies slick with sweat, until Eric Hart stumbled back into camp, his eyes widening at the sight. Without a word, he shed his pack and clothes, joining the fray. Eric's strong hands gripped Jason's ass, spreading him wide as he positioned his rigid length at the tight entrance. He pushed in slow, inch by throbbing inch, filling Jason completely while Jeremy watched, stroking himself. Jason cried out, caught between the dual invasion—Eric's deep thrusts syncing with Jeremy's renewed mouth on his cock. The three moved as one, a tangle of limbs and lust, grunts echoing through the trees. Eric pounded harder, his balls slapping rhythmically, while Jeremy's fingers teased Eric's heavy sack from below. Climax crashed over them in waves: Jason first, spilling hot across Jeremy's tongue; then Jeremy, pulsing in his fist; Eric last, burying deep and flooding Jason with his release. They collapsed together, spent and sated, the criminals' shadows forgotten in the afterglow.