Jesse Jenkins and Nathan Dale

Jesse Jenkins grips Nathan Dale’s hips as he kneels behind him, tongue tracing the tight ring of his asshole while his fingers probe deeper. The lean, dark-haired man arches into the pressure, his smooth skin glistening under the dappled forest light as Jesse’s mouth works him open. When Dale turns, their lips crash together, tongues twisting as he lowers himself onto the padded surface, inviting Jesse to take him from behind, fingers still buried, mouth still hungry. The woods frame them, and unfiltered, as they move together without pause.