I looked around the table at the mismatch of naked dinners. One old man with Ethan was obviously content, attending to his daddy's every need. John looked at me, a strange look of ownership on his face as I absorbed the view of him in the harness and collar. I had seen the welts on his ass and had muttered, "Wow," but John seemed to be content and strangely compliant in his new role.
I then looked at Devin with a new opinion of this young man, as he wasn't just attractive to behold, he was tender and... if I didn't know better, Devin had the persona of a man seeking love and companionship and had found it.
The farmhouse table groaned under mismatched bowls as I watched steam curl from my untouched chilli. Kyle's knee bounced beside me, his fingers drumming John's nape where the collar bit into fresh welts from Kyle's bite marks. Across the table, Devin's thumb traced absent circles on my shoulder, that same tender gesture from the barn, now softened by lamplight.
Something cracked open in my chest when John caught my gaze. Not pity, the bastard looked downright smug despite the harness straps digging into his sweat-salted skin. His spoon clattered as he reached for the cornbread, wincing when the movement pulled at his abused muscles. Kyle's hand shot out to steady him, rough fingers lingering too long on John's wrist, suggesting a dynamic that was working for both of them.
And then I looked at Hal and Ethan, their dynamic one of harmony and contentment. Ethan’s look of devotion was obvious, as if he were worshipping the old man. I knew that Ethan had always wanted a daddy figure in his life, and it appeared he had found one as they both ate their chilli in silence.
The chilli was surprisingly good as the last remains were finished and Ethan stood, his nudity marvellous, even stunning, as he started to clear the table. Hal sat at the head of the table, looking at the assortment of naked bodies around the table, a smile on his face suggesting he had found something.
Kyle got up with John, following his master, the screen door squealing like a gut-shot coyote when Kyle shoved it open, dragging John by his collar, into the muggy night. Cicadas throbbed in the oaks as Kyle flopped onto the porch swing, its rusted chains protesting as he yanked John down between his thighs to sit on the floor. John relaxed against Kyle's legs, enjoying his new role as the harness straps dug fresh grooves into sweat-slicked skin whenever Kyle shifted.
Devin snagged four beers from the cooler, the glass sweating instantly in the humidity, as he tossed one to Kyle without looking. John's hand darted up instinctively to catch it mid-air before it could hit Kyle's face, catching it and passing it to Kyle.
Devin handed the second beer to John, who opened it with the same urgency he had eaten the chilli. Devin then passed me the third bottle, his fingertips lingering against my palm just long enough to make my pulse stutter. "C'mon," Devin murmured, nudging me toward the porch steps where fireflies blinked lazily in the honeysuckle.
John cracked Kyle's beer first, the hiss of escaping carbonation loud in the thick air, as he took a ceremonial sip, wincing at the bite of hops, before tilting it toward Kyle's mouth. Kyle drank deep, his Adam's apple bobbing as John watched with the rapt attention of an acolyte tending his god.
Devin's knee pressed warm against mine as we settled on the top step, the wood rough under my thighs, as he thumbed the bottle cap off against the railing with a practised flick, foam bubbling over his knuckles before he licked it away. "You holding up?" he asked low enough that Kyle wouldn't overhear, his thumb brushing a fresh love bite on my collarbone.
Before I could answer, the kitchen window slid open above us, Hal's grizzled face appeared framed by moth-battered curtains, his beard shadowed with stubble in the yellow light. "Ethan's finished scrubbing pans bare-assed," he announced like a man reporting a meteorological phenomenon. "Ain't that a picture?"
The cicadas pulsed louder as Ethan padded across the porch, his freshly shaved skin gleaming in the lamplight as he moved with an ease that shouldn't belong to a captive, settling onto Hal's lap with the automatic grace of a cat claiming its favourite seat. Hal's arm curled around Ethan's waist without hesitation, his calloused thumb brushing the underside of Ethan's ribs where the skin was still pink from the razor.
John made a soft noise against Kyle's collarbone when Ethan leaned back into Hal's chest, his head tipping to rest against the old man's shoulder. It wasn't submission, not exactly. Something warmer lived in the way Ethan's fingers laced through Hal's, where they rested on his thigh, how Hal's beard scraped gently against Ethan's temple when he murmured something too low for the rest of us to hear.
Devin's beer bottle clicked against the porch step when he set it down. "Never seen grandpa let someone sit like that," he admitted quietly, his shoulder pressing against mine in the cooling dark. "Not since grandma."
The admission hung between us, weightier than the humidity as Kyle's fingers stilled in John's hair. Even the cicadas seemed to hush as Hal's hand slid up to cradle the back of Ethan's head, his palm spanning the vulnerable curve of Ethan's skull like he was measuring its worth.
Ethan smiled against Hal's throat, small, private and devastating in its authenticity. "I like it here," he said simply, his fingers tracing the scar on Hal's forearm where barbed wire had bitten decades ago. The declaration shouldn't have made sense. Twelve hours ago, we'd been trespassing cyclists at their mercy. Now John wore Kyle's collar like a second skin, Devin's thigh burned against mine, and Ethan...with his new daddy.
This was fucking weird, I thought. Three mates surrendering to three Hillbillies who had fucked us, well and truly and now, we were relaxing on their porch post dinner, drinking beer.
Hal's calloused fingers curled around Ethan's cock with the casual ownership of a man reaching for a well-worn tool. "Didn't I promise to deal with this after dinner?" he murmured, his thumb brushing the flushed head just hard enough to make Ethan's hips jerk. Ethan melted back against Hal's chest with a sigh that was half-surrender, half-relief, his body curving into the old man's touch like a sunflower tracking daylight. The porch swing creaked as Kyle shifted, his grip tightening on John's collar when Ethan's breath hitched audibly at Hal's next slow stroke.
John didn't wait for permission, as he twisted round on his knees with the fluid grace of practised submission, his harness straps whispering against sweat-damp skin as he kneeled between Kyle's spread thighs. The bottle of beer dangled forgotten from Kyle's fingers as John nuzzled his cock, already half-hard from watching Hal handle Ethan.
Devin's beer bottle clinked against the porch railing as he set it down with sudden purpose, his fingers warm where they circled my wrist, tugging me backwards until the edge of the decking bit into my thighs. "Your turn," he breathed against my ear, the words more vibration than sound as his palm smoothed up my chest. The woodgrain pressed cold against my shoulder blades when he pushed me flat, his mouth already descending before my spine fully connected with the decking.
Hal's rhythm never faltered as he watched Devin swallow me down, his grip on Ethan tightening fractionally when Devin's throat worked around me. Ethan arched like a bowstring, his toes curling against the porch planks as Hal's thumb found that sensitive spot beneath his crown. Across from us, John had managed to take Kyle halfway down his throat on the first try, his nose pressing into coarse pubic hair as Kyle's hips jerked instinctively deeper. Saliva glistened at the corners of John's stretched lips when Kyle pulled him off just to shove back in, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the firefly-lit dark.
Devin's teeth grazed my shaft as he lifted his head, his pupils blown wide when our eyes met. "Watch them," he ordered, nodding toward where Hal had shifted Ethan sideways to give us a clearer view as Ethan's legs splayed shamelessly as Hal worked him over, his cock glistening in the lamplight where Hal's broad palm stroked him with methodical precision. Devin's tongue swirled around my tip as Hal sped up, his fingers twisting on the upstroke just how Ethan liked it, a detail he shouldn't know but somehow did.
Hal's rhythm stuttered when Ethan's thighs began trembling against his own, the younger man's breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps that fogged the night air. His grip tightened at the base of Ethan's cock, thumb pressing just shy of painful against that frenulum spot he'd discovered hours earlier, the one that made Ethan's toes curl, and his hips jerk like a marionette with its strings cut. Across the porch, Kyle's fingers twisted cruelly in John's hair, holding him flush against his groin as his own hips snapped upward in shallow thrusts that made John's nostrils flare with each forced inhalation through his nose.
Devin's tongue dragged along my shaft with deliberate slowness, his dark eyes locked on mine as he hollowed his cheeks. The bastard was drawing it out, savouring the way my fingers scrabbled against weathered deck boards when he deep-throated me without warning. Somewhere beyond the roar of blood in my ears, I heard Ethan choke out a broken "Daddy..." as Hal's free hand slid around to cup his balls, the dual stimulation tipping him dangerously close to the edge.
John made a wet, punched-out noise around Kyle's cock when Kyle suddenly yanked him backwards by the harness straps, leaving only the swollen head resting on John's tongue. "Look at him," Kyle growled, jerking his chin toward where Ethan writhed in Hal's lap, his freshly shaved body gleaming with sweat under the porch light. John's eyes, glazed and desperate, flicked upward, his tongue darting out to lap weakly at Kyle's tip in silent supplication.
The porch swing's chains shrieked when Hal abruptly stood, hauling Ethan upright with him. For one dizzying moment, Ethan dangled there, suspended between Hal's grip on his cock and the older man's other arm banded across his chest. Then Hal spun them toward the railing, pressing Ethan's back against his front as he resumed stroking with brutal efficiency. "Come for me, boy," Hal rasped against Ethan's ear, his voice like gravel dragged over glass. Ethan's entire body locked up, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as his orgasm ripped through him, streaking white creamy cum across the porch boards in erratic spurts that Hal milked from him with relentless precision.
John barely had time to register Ethan’s orgasm before Kyle was shoving his cock back into his throat, fucking his face with short, punishing thrusts that left John gagging around each intrusion. His nose pressed into coarse curls with every downward snap of Kyle's hips, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks as his own cock twitched pathetically between his legs.
Devin's fingers tightened around my hips, his grip just shy of bruising as he swallowed me whole, his throat working deliberately around my shaft in time with Hal's rough strokes on Ethan across the porch. The contrast was dizzying, Devin's lips soft where they stretched around me, his tongue hot and insistent against my underside, while Hal handled Ethan with the same brutal efficiency one might use breaking a horse.
John choked when Kyle suddenly came down his throat without warning, his fingers twisting cruelly in John's hair to keep him in place as he pulsed against the back of John's tongue. John's throat convulsed helplessly around each thick spurt, his Adam's apple bobbing as he struggled to swallow, tears dripping off his chin onto Kyle's still-hard cock.
I came with a broken shout, my fingers scrabbling against the deck boards as Devin hollowed his cheeks and sucked me through it, his dark eyes locked on mine as he swallowed every drop, as he didn't pull away until I whimpered from oversensitivity, his tongue lapping gently at my spent cock in a parody of aftercare that made my stomach flip.
Hal chuckled low in his chest when Ethan finally sagged against him, limp and panting, his cock still dribbling weakly where Hal hadn't quite released him. "There now," Hal murmured, the words rough with satisfaction as he eased his grip, letting Ethan slump backwards against his chest. The porch swing groaned under their combined weight when Hal sat again, his arms circling Ethan's waist with a possessiveness that bordered on tenderness.
John collapsed forward onto his hands when Kyle finally released him, his chest heaving as he coughed weakly, strings of saliva still connecting his lips to Kyle's softening cock. Kyle watched impassively for a moment before yanking John upright by the harness straps, dragging him onto the swing beside him with surprising gentleness.
The silence settled over the porch like warm honey, thick and golden with the weight of spent desire. Fireflies pulsed in the honeysuckle vines as Ethan's breathing slowed against Hal's chest, his softening cock still glistening where it lay against his thigh. I watched Hal's thumb trace absent circles on Ethan's hipbone, the gesture incongruously tender for a man who'd just wrung an orgasm from his young man.
John slumped against Kyle's shoulder, his harness straps creaking whenever he shifted. A pearl of Kyle's cum gleamed at the corner of John's swollen lips until Kyle wiped it away with a calloused thumb, smearing it across John's cheekbone like war paint. The action made something primal twist in my gut, the casual ownership, the way John leaned into the touch instead of flinching.
Devin's thigh burned warm under my palm where I'd placed it in silent gratitude, as he covered my hand with his own, fingers lacing through mine as he exhaled through his nose, a quiet sound I felt more than heard. When I glanced over, Devin was watching me with an expression I couldn't name, his dark eyes reflecting lamplight like the creek stones he'd skipped across as a boy.
Hal's chuckle vibrated through Ethan's spine where they were pressed together, the sound low and whiskey-rough, his beard scraping Ethan's ear as he murmured, "Daddy needs his release," the words curling like smoke around the click of a lube cap snapping open. Ethan felt the cold plastic press against his lower back before warmth bloomed where Hal's fingers worked between his cheeks.
Ethan arched into the touch, his freshly shaved skin hypersensitive where Hal's calloused fingertips circled his rim. "I can feel you're ready," Ethan whispered back, his voice cracking on the last syllable as Hal's middle finger breached him with torturous slowness. The porch chair creaked under their combined weight when Ethan rocked back onto the intrusion. "Want to take me here and now?" his hips stuttering as Hal added a second finger, the stretch burning sweetly. "We can show the boys how it's done."
Across the porch, Devin's breath hitched audibly where he knelt by my side. Kyle had gone preternaturally still, his fingers frozen in John's hair as they both stared at Hal working Ethan open with methodical thrusts of his fingers.
Hal's teeth grazed Ethan's shoulder when he withdrew his fingers, the sudden emptiness making Ethan whine high in his throat. The lube tube crinkled as Hal squeezed another dollop directly onto Ethan's entrance, the cold liquid dribbling down his perineum before Hal's thick cockhead caught it, smearing the lube in messy circles. "Hands on the railing," Hal growled, his palm landing a sharp smack on Ethan's ass when he hesitated.
The wood was rough under Ethan's palms as he bent forward, his spine curving in a perfect arc that put his bare ass on display. Hal's groan sounded punched-out when he lined up, his hands bracketing Ethan's hips with possessive certainty. There was no gentle breaching. Hal sheathed himself in one well-lubricated thrust that made Ethan's knees buckle, his cry fracturing into a gasp as he took every inch.
The porch boards groaned beneath their shifting weight as Hal bottomed out, his breath hot against Ethan's freshly shaved neck, where he paused, letting the younger man adjust. Ethan's fingers turned white-knuckled around the railing, his entire body trembling with the effort of holding still while Hal's cock stretched him impossibly wide.
John made a wet, punched-out sound against Kyle's thigh when Hal began moving, the slow drag of his hips pulling a ragged moan from Ethan's throat. Devin's fingers tightened around mine as we watched, our shared beer forgotten between us, condensation dripping onto my thigh where the bottle tilted precariously.
Hal set a brutal pace from the start, each snap of his hips driving Ethan forward until his chest pressed against the porch railing, the wood biting into his ribs.
Ethan's head dropped between his shoulders, sweat-darkened hair clinging to his forehead as Hal's rhythm stuttered, his grip tightening on Ethan's hips. "Feel that?" Hal rasped against Ethan's ear, his voice gravel-rough. "Feel how deep daddy's got you?" he declared as his thumb pressed cruel circles into the small of Ethan's back, right above where their bodies joined, and Ethan sobbed something that might have been "yes" or "god" or just a broken vowel sound.
Devin's tongue traced the shell of my ear as we watched Hal speed up, his thrusts turning erratic, the veins in his forearms standing out as he hauled Ethan back onto his cock with each forward snap. Ethan's knees slid dangerously on the sweat-slicked porch boards, his toes curling uselessly against the wood grain as Hal's pace became punishing.
Hal's rhythm fractured when Ethan clenched around him unexpectedly, the younger man's body betraying him with involuntary spasms that milked Hal's cock. The old man's groan was raw, unfiltered, the sound of a predator caught in its own snare. His thrusts turned jagged, hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, forehead pressed between Ethan's shoulder blades where sweat pooled in the hollow of his spine.
We all saw the exact moment Hal came. His fingers dug crescent moons into Ethan's hips, his entire body locking up like a deer in headlights before he pulsed deep inside Ethan with a choked-off curse. The porch swing's chains shrieked in protest as Hal rode out his orgasm with shallow, grinding thrusts, his breathing ragged against Ethan's neck.
Ethan whimpered when Hal finally stilled, his body trembling with oversensitivity as Hal's softening cock slipped partway out. Neither moved for three thunderous heartbeats, the only sound their mingled panting and the creak of the swing settling under their weight. Then Hal's hand slid possessively up Ethan's back, fingers splaying between his shoulder blades as he murmured something too low for the rest of us to hear.
Hal scooped Ethan up like he weighed nothing, the younger man's limp body folding against his chest as he carried him toward the farmhouse. Ethan's freshly shaved legs gleamed in the porch light, dangling bonelessly over Hal's forearm, his toes brushing the weathered floorboards as they went inside.
Hal and Ethan’s sudden departure left the four of us on the porch when Kyle's voice cut through the humid night, "Your master wants you to fuck him," the words landing like a match dropped in dry grass.
John froze, his fingers hovering above the leather straps like he'd been electrocuted. Kyle's smirk was all teeth as he sprawled back on the porch swing, spreading his thighs in deliberate invitation. The swing's chains groaned under his shifting weight as he palmed his own half-hard cock lazily, watching John's face cycle through disbelief, hunger, and something dangerously close to worship.
Devin's knee bumped against mine where we sat on the porch steps, a silent question passing between us. I glanced sideways at him, catching the minute arch of his eyebrow, the way his lips parted just slightly before pressing together again. We'd spent the evening learning each other's tells; this one meant, you seeing this shit too?
John moved like a man in a dream, crawling toward Kyle with none of his earlier defiance. The leather harness creaked as he settled between Kyle's thighs, his hands hovering uncertainly until Kyle grabbed his wrists and planted them on his own hips. "Show me how bad you want it," Kyle taunted, his voice cracking on the last word when John's fingers squeezed the lube onto his cock.
The screen door slammed behind Hal and Ethan, cutting off our view as Kyle threw his head back with a sharp gasp. John's shoulders flexed under the harness straps as he pulled Kyle's legs closer to him, his erection demanding entrance to his Master's body.
Devin's fingers twitched against my thigh, whether in sympathy or envy, I couldn't tell, as Kyle shouted at John, "For fucks sake, get on with it. I need fucking not a picture drawing."
John didn't hesitate after that outburst. The swing's chains shrieked as he drove forward, burying himself to the hilt in one fluid motion that punched the air from Kyle's lungs. Kyle's head snapped back against the wooden slats, his throat working around a sound caught between a curse and a prayer as John's hips met his ass with a wet slap.
For three suspended seconds, neither moved, John trembling with restraint, Kyle's fingers digging crescent moons into John's harness straps. Then Kyle exhaled sharply through his nose and bucked upward, the unspoken permission snapping John's control like a twig.
The rhythm started brutal, John's thighs slamming against Kyle's ass with enough force to rock the entire swing, the chains protesting each thrust. Kyle's cock bounced against his stomach with every impact, leaking precum onto his own abdomen in sticky strands.
"Look at you," Kyle panted, his voice ragged as he raked blunt nails down John's sweat-slicked chest. "My fucking bitch, riding me like you own me," the words lighting a fuse in John's spine, his next thrust angled upward, nailing Kyle's prostate dead-on. Kyle's mockery dissolved into a punched-out groan, his legs locking around John's waist to drag him deeper.
John's rhythm fractured then, his hips stuttering into erratic, grinding rolls that had Kyle clawing at the swing's armrests. The leather straps dug into John's shoulders as Kyle used them to haul himself down onto each thrust, their sweat-slicked skin sticking where their chests collided.
John's thrusts took on a punishing pace, each snap of his hips driving Kyle further into the swing's cracked leather padding. The harness straps groaned under the strain as Kyle arched violently, his fingers scrabbling against John's sweat-slicked back, not pushing away, but pulling him deeper still.
"You wanted this?" John growled against Kyle's throat, his teeth scraping over the pulse point he'd marked earlier as his next thrust landed with enough force to make the porch swing's chains shriek in protest. "Take it then."
Kyle's answering laugh broke into a gasp when John angled upward, striking that sweet spot with surgical precision, his cock jerking against his stomach, leaking as John worked him over with relentless hips. The swing's rhythmic squeaking synced with the wet slap of skin on skin, a lewd counterpoint to Kyle's punched-out moans.
John's hands slid down to grip the base of Kyle's thighs, spreading him wider as he thrust into him with short, brutal strokes. Every muscle in Kyle's body locked tight, not in resistance, but in desperate anticipation of the next impact. His toes curled against John's lower back, heels digging in as if to spur him on.
"Fucking... Christ... " Kyle's cursed, dissolving into a ragged groan when John's thumb brushes against his perineum, applying just enough pressure to make his vision spark white, as his cock twitched violently, a fresh bead of precum welling at the tip. "Gonna make me.."
The screen door screeched open again as Hal reappeared, totally naked, his cock glistening in the light, still showing the results of his time with Ethan, as he paused mid-step when his gaze landed on John thrusting into Kyle with single-minded intensity, the porch swing's rusted chains groaning under their combined weight. Something dark flickered across Hal's face, not disapproval, but recognition, as he leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed, watching John's harness straps bite into welted flesh with each thrust.
Devin's fingers tensed around mine as Kyle's back arched off the swing, his mouth falling open in a silent scream when John suddenly stilled, buried to the hilt. The air thickened with the scent of leather and sweat as John's shoulders trembled with restraint, his fingers white-knuckled on Kyle's thighs as he climaxed.
"Don't you fucking dare stop," Kyle snarled, his voice cracking as he dug his heels into John's ass, forcing him deeper. John's breath hitched, his entire body vibrating with tension, before he obeyed, snapping his hips forward with enough force to make Kyle's head smack against the wooden slats.
John's entire body locked up like a live wire had been shoved down his spine. His hips stuttered mid-thrust, his cock twitching violently inside Kyle as the first hot pulse shot deep. The harness straps bit into his welted shoulders as Kyle arched beneath him, heels digging into John's ass to milk every last drop.
"Christ... fuck..." John choked out, his voice breaking as his orgasm ripped through him in wave after wave, his balls drawing up tight against Kyle's ass, as he could feel his cum spurting in thick, almost painful pulses, weeks of pent-up frustration emptying into Kyle's clutching heat. The sheer volume of it made Kyle groan, his own cock jerking between them, precum beading at the slit.
"You sure know how to fuck, slave," Kyle declared as John remained inside his master.
"Thank you, Master. You've shown me how it's done properly," John replied, with a smile that said it all. John had found what he wanted and needed in the form of a hillbilly in the middle of nowhere, and I was pleased for him.
John's cum glistened on Kyle's thighs as he pulled out with a wet pop, the harness straps digging into his welted shoulders when he swayed unsteadily. Moonlight caught the way Kyle's hole fluttered for a moment, gaping slightly before clenching tight again, a lewd wink in the porch light as Devin's fingers tightened around mine as we stood, his palm slick with sweat where our skin touched.
"Let's go," Devin murmured, his voice rougher than the weathered porch boards underfoot. "I need a piss on the way," as his thumb brushed my knuckle, a fleeting touch that made my pulse jump, before releasing me to grab two fresh beers from the cooler.
"I need a piss too," I declared as Devin walked alongside me towards the barn, taking to my surprise, my hand in a silent admission of... I didn't know, but I liked it.
The cicadas fell silent as Devin's fingers tightened around my hand, pulling me off the dirt path into the shadow of the ancient oak that John had become acquainted with earlier, the rope still hanging, looking somewhat redundant now that John appeared to be so compliant.
Devin pulled me closer. "Ignore the rope. That's not for you," he said, as he moved his head closer to mine, to the point our lips met with a hunger that tasted like hops and chilli spice. Our teeth clacked together awkwardly before he adjusted the angle, his tongue sweeping against mine with practised precision that made my knees wobble.
Heat bloomed low in my belly when Devin's calloused palm slid down my chest, pausing to thumb at my nipple. The kiss broke with a wet sound as he murmured against my lips, "Been thinking about this since watching that lots fuck each other," his breath hot on my chin, as my pulse raced under his fingertips where they traced my jugular, his touch feather-light yet somehow branding me deeper than Kyle's teeth had marked John.
Devin's thigh pressed between my legs with deliberate pressure, his semi-hard cock rubbing against mine as he rocked forward. The tree bark scraped my shoulder blades when he pinned me against the oak, his hips caging mine with an intimacy that stole my breath.
His chuckle vibrated against my throat when I gasped, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin below my ear. "Gonna make you fall in love with me," he promised, his voice gravel-rough with want and desire.
We resumed our kissing as the first warm splash against my stomach made me jerk in surprise. Devin's hands braced against my buttocks, keeping me in place as he pissed on me, the stream spreading, increasing his flow, the heat of it shocking against my skin before cooling rapidly in the night air.
His hips pressed closer as the intensity of our kissing grew, ensuring every last drop ran down my body and legs, soaking my pubic hair as it cascaded off my balls. "It's okay," Devin murmured when I stiffened, his thumb brushing the hinge of my jaw with unexpected tenderness. "If you want to share yours," as his fingers dipped below my waist to touch my semi-erect cock, before I could respond, coaxing my half-hard cock upwards, pointing towards his bare flesh.
The contrast between his rough hands and gentle voice unravelled something in my chest as my bladder released almost involuntarily, a hot arc splattering his thigh before the warm water cascaded between our legs.
Devin's arms locked around me with surprising tenderness as my piss splashed hot against his thigh and groin, the initial hesitant trickle becoming a steady stream that soaked his skin from hip to knee. His breath hitched against my neck, not in disgust, but something closer to reverence, as his fingers splayed across the small of my back, pressing our bodies closer together so every shudder of my release transferred directly into his muscles.
The oak's rough bark scraped my shoulder blades when he pinned me harder against it, his cock stiffening against mine as my flow strengthened, the force of it making his breath catch audibly.
"Fuck, you're beautiful like this," Devin murmured against my throat, his lips brushing the rapid flutter of my pulse point as my stream arched higher, splattering his stomach now in warm ribbons that trickled down the ridges of his abs. His hands slid down to grip my ass, kneading the flesh there as if encouraging me to empty myself against him, his hips rocking subtly to spread the liquid heat between our bodies.
The scent of salt and musk rose between us, mingling with the honeysuckle-heavy night air as my bladder finally emptied with a last few spurts that left us both damp and shivering in the aftermath.
Devin didn't pull away. Instead, he licked a slow stripe up my neck, his tongue catching the sweat beading there before he captured my mouth in a kiss that tasted of beer and something darker, more primal. His fingers traced the trails my piss had left on his skin before pressing those damp fingertips against my lips, a silent command I obeyed without hesitation, sucking the salt from his skin as his cock jerked against mine.
The bench's weathered wood bit into my bare thighs, the same bench that Kyle had used when he fucked John, as Devin lifted me onto it with surprising care, the same surface still faintly damp from John's earlier use.
Moonlight filtered through the oak trees' branches, striping Devin's torso with silver as he stepped between my spread legs, his calloused hands sliding up my outer thighs with possessive certainty.
Devin's fingers were slick with lube when they circled my entrance, his thumb pressing just shy of intrusion as he leaned down to capture my gasp with his mouth. The kiss tasted of iron and hops, his face scraping my chin as his fingers worked me open with a patience that belied the urgency in his hips. "Easy," he murmured against my lips when I tensed, his free hand sliding up to cradle the back of my skull. "Just getting you ready for me."
The first breach burned despite his careful preparation, my body arching off the bench as his fingertip crooked upward, finding that sweet spot with terrifying precision. Devin's chuckle vibrated against my throat as my legs tightened around his waist involuntarily, my heels digging into the small of his back. "Knew you'd be tight here," he rasped, his teeth grazing my earlobe as he added a second finger, the stretch making my breath hitch. "Knew you'd clench around me just like this."
Cool air rushed across my sweat-slicked skin when Devin stepped back to slick his cock, the lube glistening on his thick length in the moonlight. His grip on my hips tightened as he guided himself to my entrance, the blunt head catching momentarily before pushing past the resisting ring of muscle, my shout echoing through the quiet of the night as he seated himself to the hilt in one fluid thrust, his groan harmonising with the creak of the workbench beneath us.
Devin stilled, his forehead pressed to mine as we both panted, his cock twitching inside me as my body adjusted to the overwhelming fullness. His thumbs brushed the tear tracks I hadn't realised were there, his voice rougher than the wood beneath me when he murmured, "Hurts good, doesn't it?" he asked. I could only nod in answer, my fingers clutching at his sweat-slicked shoulders as he began to move.
Devin's thrusts started slow, measured, each roll of his hips pressing me deeper into the bench as his cock dragged against that electrifying spot inside me. My heels scrambled against his lower back, trying to pull him closer even as my body arched away from the intensity. "That's it," he growled, his breath hot against my temple as his hands slid under my thighs, forcing them wider. "Take me, all you want, just take me."
The bench groaned beneath us as Devin's pace quickened, his hips snapping forward with enough force to make my vision blur. Every impact jolted through me, sending sparks up my spine as my cock twitched between us, leaking onto my stomach in sticky strands. Devin's fingertips dug bruises into my hips as he adjusted his angle, his next thrust striking so deep I cried out, a broken, wordless sound that dissolved into panting when he did it again, and again.
Somewhere beyond the roaring in my ears, I heard the distant squeak of the porch swing, Kyle's low laughter carrying through the night. The sounds twisted together with the wet slap of Devin's balls against my ass, his grunts syncing with the creak of the bench until all I knew was heat and friction and the unbearable tension coiling tighter in my gut.
"Look at you," Devin rasped, his thumb swiping through the mess on my stomach before pressing against my lips. I sucked the bitter-salt taste of myself from his skin as he fucked into me with relentless precision, his cockhead massaging that perfect place inside with every stroke. "Gonna come just from this, aren't you?" he asked as he laughed with satisfaction when my hips stuttered in answer, my thighs trembling around his waist. "Knew you would."
The orgasm hit like a live wire, my back bowing off the bench as white-hot pleasure ripped through me, my cock pulsing between us as I spilt over my stomach in thick stripes. Devin's pace never faltered, his hips driving into me through the aftershocks until the oversensitivity bordered on pain, his fingers tightening on my thighs to keep me spread open as he chased his own release.
Devin's thrusts turned brutal as my orgasm crested, his fingers digging into my thighs hard enough to leave marks as he fucked me through the aftershocks. The bench squeaked in protest beneath us, its rusted bolts straining under the force of his movements as I gasped when his teeth sank into my shoulder, the sharp pain cutting through the oversensitivity as his hips stuttered against mine.
"Fuck, fuck..." Devin's voice shattered mid-curse as he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside me with each hot spurt. His whole body trembled against mine, forearms braced on either side of my head as he emptied himself with ragged groans that vibrated against my collarbone.
The cicadas resumed their drone when Devin finally stilled, his breath hot and uneven against my throat, as he didn't pull out, just shifted his weight using his free hand to wipe the cum from my stomach with two fingers, as he smirked when he pressed them against my tongue, watching my throat work as I swallowed.
A twig snapped somewhere beyond the oak's canopy. Devin's head snapped up, his body tensing protectively over mine before relaxing at the familiar silhouette leaning against the fence post.
"Grandpa wants y'all back at the house," Kyle drawled, thumbs hooked on his naked hips, his cock massive and flaccid hanging between his legs as moonlight glinted off John's collar where he knelt at Kyle's feet, his cheek resting against Kyle's thigh. "Says we got work at dawn."
Morning light beamed through the curtains, the mattress springs groaning like a dying animal when Devin rolled onto his back, his forearm slung over his eyes as sunlight stabbed through the threadbare curtains. I blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling, my body aching in places I'd forgotten I had, like my hips, thighs, and the sweet spot between my shoulder blades that still carried the imprint of oak bark. The scent of bacon and coffee seeped under the bedroom door, mingling with the musk of sweat and sex clinging to Devin's skin beside me.
Devin's fingers brushed my hipbone as he sat up, his calloused palm lingering just long enough to make my breath catch. "Grandpa's cooking breakfast," he muttered, his voice rough with sleep as he stretched, the sheet pooling around his waist to reveal the bite marks I'd left on his thighs last night. The sight sent a pulse of heat through me that had nothing to do with the morning sun.
We found Hal at the stove, his flannel sleeves rolled to the elbows as he flipped pancakes with ease, as Ethan stood at his elbow, fully dressed, passing syrup with the easy familiarity of someone who'd done it a hundred times, not a man who'd been fucked and adopted less than eighteen hours earlier.
I noticed my clothes were stacked neatly on the kitchen table, my tighty whities folded on top like some kind of perverse flag of surrender. "It's okay, boy, you can get dressed if you want to," Hal declared with his back to me.
John shuffled in behind Kyle, moving stiffly but without the defiance of yesterday. His harness straps peeked from beneath his shirt collar, the leather darkened with sweat where it pressed against the fresh welts of yesterday, but I noticed the leather collar was absent. Kyle's hand settled possessively on the back of John's neck as they took their seats, his thumb brushing the knob of John's spine in a gesture that was equal parts claim and comfort. "Don't forget, you get to take it off later."
Hal slid a plate of pancakes toward me with a grunt, his eyes flicking to the fresh hickey on my throat before meeting mine with surprising warmth. "Devin'll take you boys to your campsite after breakfast," he announced, pouring coffee thick as motor oil into mismatched mugs. "Got fence posts need setting before noon."
Hal's calloused fingers brushed my shoulder as I buttoned my shirt, the contact lingering just long enough to make my pulse skip. "You boys are welcome back anytime," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear where Ethan couldn't overhear. The words shouldn't have settled in my chest like a promise, but they did, wrapping around my ribs with the same inevitability as Devin's arm sliding around my waist from behind.
Devin's chin hooked over my shoulder, his stubble scraping my collarbone as he watched me tuck my shirt into still-damp underwear. "Hope you will come back," he added quietly, his fingers tracing the waistband of my briefs with proprietary ease. The double meaning hummed between us, part invitation, part command, as John made a soft noise by the screen door where Kyle was adjusting his harness straps with exaggerated care.
Ethan's fork clinked against his empty plate at the breakfast table, the sound too precise to be accidental. When I glanced over, he was watching Hal with that unsettling calm, his lips quirking when the older man automatically refilled his coffee without being asked. Something unspoken passed between them, some secret understanding that made Hal's knuckles whiten around the spatula before he turned back to the stove with a grunt.
Kyle's laugh cracked through the kitchen like a whip when John instinctively reached to adjust his own collar, only to find bare skin. The redhead caught John's wrist mid-air, his thumb brushing the fading rope burns with unexpected gentleness. "Miss it already, don't cha?" he teased, but there was warmth beneath the mockery as he pressed John's palm to his own sternum, right over the spot where his heartbeat thudded steady and strong. "You still have the harness, though. Please wear it if you return."
The screen door squeaked as Devin herded us toward the pickup, where our bikes still lay in the bed. Morning light gilded the dirt driveway where Hal's other truck waited, its bed already loaded with fence posts and coiled barbed wire. Ethan emerged last, his steps measured as he crossed to stand beside Hal, their shoulders brushing in a way that made the older man's posture soften almost imperceptibly.
Kyle watched as the truck bed rattled down the drive as Devin eased onto the dirt road, our bikes shifting against each other like restless animals. John sat closest to the cab, the harness straps peeking from beneath his shirt collar, Kyle's parting gift "for next time," he had said. I was sandwiched between Ethan and Devin, his thigh burning through my shorts, his fingers drumming an idle rhythm on my knee that felt more like a claim than a caress.
Devin downshifted at the county line, the engine's growl dropping an octave as pavement replaced gravel. "Your campsite's up ahead," Devin murmured against my temple, his breath warm where it stirred my hair as his calloused thumb traced the fresh love bite on my neck, the pressure just shy of painful.
The truck rolled to a stop where our tents still stood, their rainflies flapping like surrender flags in the morning breeze, and settled around the campfire that had still to be used. Our gear remained untouched, our clothes, backpacks, water bottles, protein bars, and the dog-eared trail map I'd left folded on my sleeping bag. Twenty hours ago, we'd been trespassers. Now John climbed down with Kyle's harness still very much attached, only the collar absent, as I stepped onto gravel with Devin's fingerprints branding my hips.
Ethan was last, taking time to survey the scene, eventually turning to Devin. "Tell Hal, he's the best daddy I've ever had."
Devin nodded in response, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable before he turned to John. "Kyle really likes you," he said, his voice low and rough like gravel under boots. "More than he's liked anyone in a long damn time," as John's fingers twitched toward his bare throat where the collar had been, the ghost of leather still pressing into his skin.
Then Devin approached me, his calloused hands framing my face as he kissed me with a hunger that stole the breath from my lungs. His teeth caught my lower lip, his tongue hot and demanding as he backed me against the truck's fender, the metal digging into my spine. Behind us, Ethan made a soft, startled noise, something between a cough and a laugh, while John just stared, his mouth slightly open like he'd forgotten how to close it.
Devin pulled away just far enough to smirk at my dazed expression, his thumb swiping the wetness from my bottom lip. "That's so you remember," he murmured, his voice thick with promise as his fingers trailed down my chest, lingering over my heartbeat before he stepped back, leaving me swaying on unsteady legs.
John recovered first, clearing his throat loudly. "So, uh... we just pack up and go?" he asked, gesturing vaguely at the tents as his harness straps creaked under his shirt.
Devin shrugged, already walking backwards toward the truck. "Unless you wanna explain to Kyle why you've returned home without asking his permission," he said, the word home hanging oddly in the air between us. John's cheeks flushed pink as he turned abruptly toward his tent, his movements jerky with unspent energy.
We watched Devin's truck disappear down the fire road, the rumble of its engine fading into the morning birdsong. The silence stretched until John suddenly tore off his shirt, the harness straps gleaming in the sunlight as he hurled it toward his tent, followed by his shorts. "That was fucking mental," he growled, kicking at the cold ashes of the fire circle before dropping onto a log. "I find a master who lets me fuck him raw, and then…" as he made a sharp, dismissive gesture with his hand. "Hey ho, it's over. Like some cheap Grindr hookup."
Ethan didn't look up from unlacing his boots, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness. "I found a proper daddy," he said quietly, brushing pine needles from his knee. "Not like those SilverDaddies creeps who just want a hole to dump in," as his thumb traced the fresh bruise peeking above his collar, the ghost of Hal's teeth still pressed into his skin. "I miss him already, and he didn't even spank me," as he stripped off his clothes to stand in his briefs like John.
The certainty in his voice made John scoff, but I caught the way his fingers twitched toward his own bare throat where Kyle's collar had been. My own skin still burned where Devin's attention had scraped me raw, the memory of his teeth on my hipbone rising unbidden as I poked at the dead fire with a stick.
John exhaled sharply through his nose, his shoulders tense beneath the harness straps. "You really think they'll have us back?" he asked.
The question hung between us, weighted with something too fragile to name. "What do you think, Steve. You've been very quiet all morning."
Ethan just smiled, small and secret, as he rolled up his sleeping bag with the idea of packing. "Hal doesn't make promises he won't keep," as his hands stilled on the fabric, his gaze distant. "He said I had a home if I wanted."
The fire pit was already dead when John kicked it again. "Well?" he demanded, harness straps biting into his shoulders as he turned to me. "Steve, you gonna answer or just sit there rubbing that hickey like it's a fucking genie lamp?"
I dropped my hand from my throat. Devin's teeth marks still throbbed under my collar, a phantom claim. "We got fucked," I said slowly, watching a ladybug crawl up my hiking boot. "Properly fucked. Not just physically..." as I kicked off my boots, letting my shorts slide down my legs as I tugged my shirt over my head. “We also got our briefs back.”
Ethan snorted, folding his spare clothes carefully into his backpack. "Speak for yourself. Hal wrecked me in every way possible," as his cheeks pinked when John rolled his eyes. "I mean...he washed me. Completely. Even between my... and then shaved me and cuddled me like his boy."
"Yeah, we fucking get it," John interrupted, as his fingers crept toward his own throat again, tracing absent circles where Kyle's collar had been. “Not sure these are my briefs by the way,” tugging the waistband.
Hesitating momentarily, I continued. "And I found someone who's..." I struggled for words, staring at the dirt where Devin's truck tyres had left grooves. "Fuck, he's beautiful. Not just his stupid shoulders or that fucking smirk..." my voice cracking embarrassingly. "He pissed in my mouth like he was sharing something most men never share. Like it was normal to share with someone special. How he knew it was my one secret kink, I have no idea."
Ethan's feet scuffed the dirt, his gaze locked on the distant treeline where Hal's property began. "We could ride the south ridge today," he said, his voice carefully neutral as he adjusted his backpack straps, standing there in his briefs. “I’m pretty sure these are mine, by the way,” pulling the white cotton to sit comfortably over his cock.
The harness lines shifted as John stood in his Hanes briefs, the leather creaking like saddle tack as he asked, "I've never met hillbillies before, but fucking hell...What the hell is a hillbilly anyway?"
"Men who fucked us well and truly," I said while watching a ladybug traverse the curve of my water bottle, its tiny legs testing the condensation. “According to Google, a hillbilly is a term used to describe people from remote, rural, or mountainous areas of the United States, particularly the Southern Appalachian region, where we are at the moment and the Ozark area. While often used by outsiders, like us, as a derogatory term implying ignorance, poverty, or lack of sophistication, it is also sometimes self-applied with pride to signify a self-reliant, simple way of life that values family, independence, and a close connection to nature."
The silence stretched between us as we all thought about the Google explanation until John's harness squeaked with his sudden movement. "Fuck this," he growled, yanking his bike upright with enough force to make the frame shudder. "I'm going back," as his knuckles whitened around the handlebars. "Devin didn't say we couldn't return, and how the fuck am I going to cycle anywhere knowing how I feel. For the first time in my life, I felt wanted for fucks sake. Wanted and I truly submitted instead of playing a roleplay game in some dungeon in New York with a master who probably as....fucking loads of slave bending to his will. Kyle wanted me, and I fucking miss him already."
The ladybug took flight as Ethan's slow grin dawned, sunlight catching the bruise peeking above his collar. "Thought you hated being collared," he murmured, kicking his own bike lying on the ground.
John's answering smile was all teeth. "Hated the pretending and roleplay more," he admitted, thumb brushing the space above his sternum where Kyle's leash had clipped in. "At least there I know exactly what I am to him and he's honest and sincere and last night, he cuddled me in bed like I was the most important person in his world."
The forest breathed around us, warm wind stirring pine needles as we stood in our briefs at the crossroads between two versions of ourselves. My fingers found the love bite Devin had left throbbing under my jawline, the phantom press of his teeth making my pulse jump. "Well? We have a choice. Cycling for five days or fucking for five days?" I demanded.
Ethan's bike hit the dirt before he'd fully decided, kicking up dust that settled on his boots like powdered sugar. "Fuck cycling," he muttered, shaking pine needles from his hair, pine needles Hal had picked from his scalp last night with calloused fingers while Ethan sprawled across his lap. His backpack straps creaked as he shrugged it off, letting it slump against a rotting log like a discarded skin.
John was already unbuckling his harness with trembling fingers, the leather straps slithering to the ground with a wet slap. His bare chest gleamed with sweat under the harness lines, pale stripes where the sun hadn't touched. "If we're doing this," his voice cracked as he stepped back into the harness's loops, tightening the leg straps with sharp, practised tugs, "we're doing it right," as he rebuckled the harness, tightening the remaining straps in the same fashion as Kyle had done.
The fire road stretched empty behind us, gravel still warm from Devin's truck tyres, as we cycled, all semi-naked in just our briefs, with John looking confident in his harness. We didn't speak until we stopped at the track leading off the road, the end being... perhaps our destination for five days or maybe longer.
John looked at Ethan and me. “We’re doing it right, remember?”
The silence was profound between us until John climbed off his bike and continued. “If it works out, Devin can come and collect our stuff later. In the meantime, have you forgotten the price for trespassing?” as he slipped his briefs off to stand naked in front of us. “They’re only tighty whities, boys, and we know someone who appreciates them.”
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