Jake and Mike had the whole stretch of riverbank to themselves. Their tent sat twenty yards from the water, fire crackling in the ring of stones, the smell of pine and smoke thick in the air. They’d been fucking on every camping trip for two years, but tonight Mike had brought rope.
“Strip,” Mike said, voice low and flat. “Hands behind your back.”
Jake dropped his shorts and shirt without a word. His cock was already half-hard from the walk in, swinging heavy between his legs. Mike grabbed both wrists, looped the soft nylon rope around them, and cinched it tight until Jake’s shoulders pulled back. Another loop went around his chest and upper arms, pinning everything. Jake tested it; the rope didn’t give.
“On your knees.”
Jake sank down on the blanket they’d spread by the fire. Mike stepped in front of him, unzipped, and pulled out his thick cock. He didn’t ask. He just fed it between Jake’s lips and started fucking his mouth in steady thrusts.
Spit ran down Jake’s chin and dripped onto his own chest. Every time Mike pushed deep, Jake’s nose pressed into the dark hair at the base, throat working around the head.
Mike pulled out after a minute, wiped his wet dick across Jake’s face, then walked around behind him. A second length of rope went around Jake’s ankles, pulled tight so his heels almost touched his ass. He was stuck on his knees, arms locked, cock jutting out and leaking.
Mike sat on the log by the fire and watched him struggle for a while, stroking himself slow. “Look at that cock,” he said. “Dripping already and I haven’t even touched it.”
He stood, grabbed Jake under the arms, and hauled him upright only to push him forward over the same log. Jake’s chest hit the rough bark. His bound arms stayed behind him. Mike kicked his knees wider, spat on his hole, and shoved two fingers in without warning. Jake grunted. Mike worked the fingers in and out, scissoring, stretching, adding a third when Jake started pushing back.
“Fuck, you’re tight tonight,” Mike muttered. He pulled his fingers free, lined up his cock, and drove in balls-deep in one hard thrust. Jake’s breath punched out of him. Mike didn’t wait. He grabbed the rope around Jake’s wrists like a handle and started pounding, hips slapping loud against Jake’s ass.
The fire popped and crackled while Mike fucked him. Every thrust shoved Jake harder into the log. His own cock rubbed against the blanket underneath, smearing precome. Mike reached under, grabbed Jake’s balls, and tugged them down, stretching them while he kept driving in.
“Gonna come in this hole,” Mike growled. “Fill you up while you’re tied like a fucking animal.”
He lasted another minute, then slammed in deep and stayed there, pulsing. Jake felt every hot spurt. When Mike finally pulled out, come leaked down Jake’s balls and inner thighs.
Mike left him there for a few minutes, breathing hard, hole twitching. Then he untied the ankle rope, flipped Jake onto his back on the blanket, and retied the ankles together in front. Jake’s legs were bent, knees to chest, everything exposed. Mike pushed Jake’s thighs apart and went down on him, sucking his cock deep and fast, two fingers shoved back inside the wet hole at the same time.
Jake came hard, shooting down Mike’s throat while the firelight danced across his bound chest. Mike swallowed, then crawled up and kissed him, sharing the taste.
They stayed like that a while, Jake still tied, Mike’s fingers tracing the rope marks on his skin. Later Mike untied him slow, rubbing circulation back into his wrists and ankles. They ate cold sandwiches by the fire, then crawled into the tent. Mike tied Jake’s wrists to the tent pole above his head, fucked him again on the sleeping bag, slower this time, until Jake came untouched just from the pressure on his prostate.
Morning came gray and cool. Mike untied him for good, but left faint red lines on his skin that lasted until they packed up. They hiked out quiet, already talking about the next trip and what other gear they might bring.
