Jason Mike grips Yuri Adamov’s hips, his fingers digging into the smooth muscle of his back as he slams into him from behind, the military belt still fastened around his waist. Yuri bends over the metal lattice, his dark hair falling forward as Jason Mike takes him hard, the outdoor air sharp against their sweat-slicked skin. One hand braces the bars while the other reaches back, fingers teasing his hole before Jason Mike’s cock buries deeper, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and unfiltered. The uniform’s straps hang loose, but the discipline in their movements is unmistakable, military precision turned to, unspoken need.
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