The bearded man kneels in the dirt, gripping the other’s hips as he licks the tight hole while he stands, gripping the graffiti-scarred wall behind him. Dark hair glistens with sweat and spit as the one on his knees works the asshole with his tongue, fingers, and mouth. The woods blur around them, but the only thing that matters is the way the standing man arches into the pressure, his muscles straining.
