Kestrel's POV
"Ride me, Sit on my c**k, please... I need you badly," he begs, and my vision isn't straight again despite just reeling from the clouds of orgasm.
The interior of the bus is dim, bathed in the fading twilight filtering through the windows. The leather seats creak beneath us as he kisses me, our bodies now slick with sweat despite the cool mountain air flowing through the open windows.
Outside, the sounds of the camp, there is distant laughter, music from someone's portable speaker, the crackle of the bonfire being lit that seems to belong to another world entirely.
Zeph strokes his c**k, the impressive length hard and ready in his hand. His jeans are pushed down to his thighs, his t-shirt rucked up to reveal the defined muscles of his abdomen. In the half-light, his gold
