Saddle Tramps II

Under the vast ranch sky, Jeff Converse, the seasoned cowboy with callused hands and a knowing grin, takes young Jim Hardy in hand. Jim's a studly colt, all lean muscle and wide-eyed fire, eager yet untested. Jeff eases him down, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness. He guides Jim's mouth to his thick cock, feeding it inch by inch, watching those full lips stretch and yield. Saliva gleams, breaths quicken—Jeff's fingers tangle in Jim's hair, urging deeper, harder sucks that echo with wet promise. Satisfied, Jeff flips him over, rough palms parting those firm cheeks. He works Jim's tight hole with slick fingers first, circling the rim, then plunging in, stretching him open like a secret door finally ajar. Jim bucks, moans low and raw, his body arching into the intrusion. Jeff's no stranger to this dance; he knows just how to tease until the colt trembles, begging without words. Then comes the main ride. Jeff slicks his cock and presses the swollen head against that prepared entrance. He slides in deep, a slow, relentless thrust that buries him to the hilt in Jim's hot, clenching ass. Jeff rides him hard now—hips snapping, skin slapping skin in a frenzy of sweat and grit. Jim's cries mix with the creak of the barn, his body surrendering fully to the older man's commanding rhythm, lost in the raw heat of it all.