Mountain Tops Part 2

In the heart of a sun-dappled meadow, Ray Diaz and James Ryder unfurl blankets like an invitation, shedding their clothes to tangle in a heated embrace. Ray's hunger pulses through every move, a raw ache for something thick to claim his depths, igniting the air with forbidden heat. They stretch out under the open sky, cocks rigid and unashamed, jutting skyward for any wandering eyes. A shadow stirs at the clearing's edge—a silhouette etched by sunlight glancing off chiseled abs. He steps forward, zipper rasping open, hand wrapping his shaft in urgent strokes. Danny Palick. Ray, lost in the rhythm of swallowing James whole, misses the intruder entirely. But James, head thrown back in ecstasy, spots him from the corner of his eye. They draw Danny in with eager lips, trading off on his long, arcing cock—thick and curved like a scythe—then linking their mouths into a slick tunnel for him to thrust through. The lens lifts to frame Danny's broad, muscled shoulders, kissed by a farmer's tan that speaks of honest labor under the sun. James claims a throne on Ray's face first, grinding down as tongues and lips worship him. Then they alternate, plunging into Ray's firm, tawny ass—tight and unyielding, gripping every inch. Teetering on release, Ray flips to his back, mouth agape, tongue flicking like a lure beneath the gathering storm of cum.