Jax Thirio’s beard presses into Marcus Rivers’ back as he pins him to the green canvas, fingers already working the tight hole while the tent’s thin walls muffle the wet sounds. Rivers grips the blanket beneath him, his ass stretched open as Jax’s tongue traces the rim before his cock slides in hard, the military boots scuffing the dirt outside. The air smells of sweat and pine, thick with the weight of their bodies tangled in the dark.
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