Vinnie grunted and cursed inwardly as he slumped to the ground, the last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness being a green humanoid blob standing over him. The ambush was such an easy trap, he and his bros really should've been able to thwart it easily. Should've, had they not been so preoccupied with their own pleasures. It had been several months since the final defeat of Limburger, and the Biker Mice had decided it was time for a well-deserved, old-fashioned bout of R&R. It didn't take them very long at all to convince Charlie to let them go, nor to find a suitably secluded area in the nearby woods to shack up for the vacation, and they only packed the essentials for it. Just a little bonding exercise, they had told her, nothing too extreme.

	Charlie wasn't fooled, however; although they tried to hide it from her, and she had pretended not to notice, she had gotten enough glimpses of their activities “off-hours” to know they were closer than they let on – activities that had increased exponentially in the last couple of weeks – and a quick look at their supplies for the trip confirmed her suspicions: food, survival gear, and camping supplies she had expected, but nothing else; no electronics, no reading material or entertainment, and – most notably – no extra clothing. She gave the trio of mice a bemused look as they packed their gear up on their bikes and headed out, shaking her head; as much attention as Vinnie had given her, she knew his heart – and his body – would always belong to his bros, a fact that grew more apparent the more his flirtings turned away from her and toward them. She wasn't mad; as hot as she thought all of the mice were, they just weren't her type, and she was grateful that they were so close. So, when she was informed about their plans to take a week off to camp out, she readily agreed, knowing it was the perfect opportunity for them to explore the more intimate side of their relationship without pressure.

	The ride into the woods was uneventful but beautiful, each mouse appreciating the calm serenity of the drive in their own way. It had been too long since they had the chance to relax like this, to enjoy the gorgeous sights of Earth at their own leisure, and it greatly perked up their spirits. As they drove, Vinnie thought about the place they had chosen for the camp; talking with some of the locals, they had learned of a legend about an area near the base of the nearby mountain, where no human had dared to enter. Officially, the area was cordoned off by the government as a natural game preserve, but to the campers, hunters, and other wilderness folk on the city's outskirts, it was something more – tales told of a large clearing shrouded by trees and the shadow of the mountain, keeping it in perpetual darkness; of eerie howls echoing through it, and half-seen blurs rushing through the dense foliage around it, and of the odd mysterious disappearance of young adventurers fool enough to travel there to debunk the legends, only to never be seen again.

	Vinnie, like the others, scoffed at these rumors; as much as they've seen in their war against the Plutarkians, they weren't superstitious, and gave no heed to the warnings about the area. Besides, if there was something or someone hidden in the clearing, they were more than capable of holding their own against it... or so they thought. For now, though, they were anticipating the legends to keep any nosy people away from the area, leaving them at peace to do what they wanted. And, for what they had planned for that week, they certainly hoped that was the case.

	An hour and a half after they left, they arrived at the preserve, Modo quirking an eyebrow at his bros as they scanned the area; a large, 5-acre woodland clearing, almost pitch-black from the lack of sunlight, and virtually untouched by mortal hands, exactly as the legends described it. Cutting through one corner of the area, a small but deep stream flowed, providing clean water for the bros to drink and bathe in. Other than the babbling of the brook, it was remarkably silent in the glade; no animals, no birds, not even insects broke the quiet, which gave the space an eerie feeling.

	Throttle sat up and took his helmet off, surveying their home for the week. “Charming little place, ain't it?”

	“Nice 'n creepy, just as the locals said,” Modo grunted, doing the same. He wrapped his mechanical arm around his helmet and leaned on his bike. “Still think those hoodoo stories aren't real, Vin?”

	The white-furred mouse removed his helmet, as well, and shook his head with a chuckle. “Don't they say legends often have a grain of truth to them? Area looks the same, but no creepy sounds, no odd movements. I still think they're being paranoid, bro.”

	Modo hummed to himself. “Well, whatever the case, we've got the place to ourselves for the week. Let's make the most of it, eh?” Smirking at his bro with a lustful smile, the gray mouse disembarked his bike and started unpacking it, The others chuckled and gave Modo a leering look back, Throttle reaching down to rub the visible bulge in his jeans as they followed suit. Lanterns were quickly lit to help brighten the glade and make work easier, after which a simple camp was set up – a fire pit was dug, around which a trio of simple bedspreads were laid. A cooking tripod was erected over the pit, and the food they had brought was secured in locked coolers hung out of the way on the odd tree that dotted the clearing. Firewood wasn't a problem; while there was little dead wood found around the glade, the bros had decided to buy their own to take with them, to avoid defiling the area more than necessary, so while Modo got out a few logs to set the fire up, the other two started to strip out of their clothes, groping and teasing each other as they disrobed. 

	Modo couldn't help but grin to himself and rub his own crotch at each glance he took of the other mice; long ago, the trio had learned to trust an rely on each other for all of their needs, both emotional and physical, so sex between them was commonplace, whenever they had the chance. At first it was out of necessity, and Modo and Throttle thought that necessity was dying off once Vinnie started macking on Charlie, but Vin was too devoted to his bros for that; they had become a family, and when Vinnie finally admitted to them – and himself – that he preferred being gay, they supported him the only way they could: by loving him, body and soul, as much as he could stand. Throttle and Modo had already cemented themselves as a couple, by then, so it was a relief to them to know their bro was just as much in love with them as they were with each other. They welcomed him into their relationship with open arms, and while the sex was more frequent and intense, now that they didn't have to worry about the war, Vinnie seemed to hold back, eventually acknowledging that it was out of respect for Charlie. He needed time away from her to truly think it over, to know for sure if this was what he wanted, so the decision was made, and this trip was planned. Vinnie nearly leaped out of his skin in joy when Charlie voiced her approval of the trip, and shortly afterward the rules of the trip were made: no clothing during the entire week, save for their boots to protect their feet; sex whenever you want, with permission from the others; and absolutely no judgment or disapproval with any actions or kinks on the others' part. This was a time to reaffirm their relationship and experiment with how far it went; nothing within reason was out of the question, and all requests would be respected and considered. If they couldn't trust each other with their darkest, most erotic secrets, then they agreed it was time for them to part.

	And thus, it began, all three mice settling in for a week of unbridled lust. Vinnie and Throttle got right to work, without waiting for Modo to finish making the campfire; kicking their discarded clothes to the side, the two mice kissed and rubbed each other passionately, grinding hips together in eagerness, before Vinnie broke the embrace and dropped to his knees, his eyes coming within line of Throttle's hardening mousehood. All three bros were quite well-hung – Vinnie at a respectable 9 inches long and 2 inches thick, Throttle at 10 and a half inches long and 2 and a half inches thick, and Modo beating them all at a whopping 13 inches long and 3 and a quarter inches thick – and all had taken each other up the tail or down the gullet at many points in their lives, so they were well-versed in cock sucking and cock riding 101. Those seemed like the little leagues, however, compared to this week; without hesitation but a quick look up at his bro, Vinnie took Throttle's cock into his mouth and downed it, struggling somewhat to suppress his gag reflex as he swallowed the thick, long intruder down to the roots. Throttle gasped and moaned, grabbing Vinnie's head and massaging the base of his ears as he felt the tightness of the mouse's throat squeeze around his girth. With a smile, the white mouse grabbed his brown partner's ass and gave it a light squeeze, a signal Throttle instantly recognized and obeyed. With one last, almost apologetic knead around his ears, Throttle started literally face-raping his bro, drawing his hips back to slide his cock out of the warm orifice before slamming them forward, impaling the throat on the fleshy pole once again in a fast, frantic, and almost brutal pattern. At first, Vinnie had trouble keeping from gagging around the intruder, especially with the roughness of his bro's thrusts, but that slowly abated as he grew used to the abuse, murring happily as he knelt there, motionless, allowing his bro to use his mouth however he wanted.

	Modo grunted and attempted to adjust the growing erection in his pants as he finished stacking up the wood for the fire; he so wanted to drop everything and join them, and he was tempted to toss off his clothes and start jacking off to his bros right then and there. However, they had started out late, and it was getting dark outside the glade, and even with their lanterns, it was too dim for them to comfortably rest without the fear of predators. So, with one last lingering grope on himself, the gray mouse continued his work, tindering the fire before striking a match and setting the pyramid of wood alight. He waited a few moments for the fire to start burning on its own, feeding it a few stray twigs to ensure it continued blazing at a comfortable clip before undressing himself. The heat of the fire felt good on his bare fur, his hands rubbing along his chest, stomach, and sides as he soaked up the warmth before his hands stopped on his groin. The pole – now at full mast now that it was free of the confines of his jeans – dripped a little with precum as it was warmed by the flickering flames, growing quite warm to the touch as Modo started sliding his right hand over it, his left reaching lower to fondle his large, grapefruit-sized nutsack.

	A grunted 'mrph' directed his gaze to one side, the pace of his fondling quickening at the sight of his bros; Throttle was now going at Vinnie's mouth with a fevered pitch that Modo had rarely seen from the leader of the Biker Mice, callously pounding away at the white mouse's muzzle like a jackhammer. Looking closer, Modo could see Vinnie's throat visibly distending as the thick, long pole forced its way in and out of it, Vinnie gurgling happily around it as his grip on Throttle's ass tightened. The white mouse hadn't touched himself since he started sucking off his bro, but his cock was rock-hard and throbbing, shooting out streams of precum like a fountain as he relished his face being used by his bro like this. Throttle, on the other hand, was lost in his own world, his mouth agape and his tongue flopping out and drooling from the sensation, eyes screwed shut from the sheer pleasure he was overwhelmed with.

	The trio remained like that for a good 5 minutes, Throttle pounding his cock into Vinnie's eager mouth mindlessly, while Modo frantically jerked off to the sight. Modo's front – especially his dick and balls – were growing more and more warm from the fire, the image of his bros lost in their own lust distracting the mouse from realizing he was standing dangerously close to it. Groaning a little to himself, he leaned further forward, his hips jutting just far enough out that he unwittingly pushed his groin into the corona of the campfire. The flames licked gently at his hands and genitals, the brief, searing heat of each caress drawing a greater moan from the buff rodent, the ropes of precum spurting from his cock's tip sizzling as they dribbled into the fire to be consumed by the flames.

	Meanwhile, Vinnie's and Throttle's face-fucking was reaching a dangerous climax; Throttle, completely lost in the haze of lust, was brutalizing Vinnie's face and throat, gripping the base of his ears painfully and banging his hips against his nose so roughly that it started to hurt badly. His cock, slipping in and out of Vinnie's throat carelessly at this point, suddenly jammed itself down the wrong pipe, causing the white mouse to choke, his eyes watering as the thick, long rod continued to randomly alternate between his trachea and his esophagus. The pain drove Vinnie to unwittingly harm his bro in return, hands and jaw clenching hard around the meat in them to the point where his nails and teeth started digging harshly into the flesh, leaving deep marks on the skin, but thankfully not breaking it. Despite this, his cock was as painfully hard as his muzzle and throat were painfully sore, twitching wildly with each thrust as thick jets of pre flew out of it and into the ground between Throttle's legs, the pool it created growing more and more with each passing moment. The pain in his ass and cock, in turn, drove Throttle into further heights of ecstasy, creating a recursive loop of pain and pleasure that threatened to break both mice's minds.

	As the Biker Mice continued to ravage each other, from a crevice between the trees and the mountainside, monstrous yellow eyes watched with curious interest. The creature licked his lips as he observed the newcomers, its hand stroking its own enormous cock to half-hardness at the erotic sight before it. The mice were unique to the creature; the only two-legged animals it had seen in this area were members of its own kind and the occasional human, so the exoticness of their bodyshape and form proved quite appealing to it. The viciousness of their lovemaking also intrigued it; it had known sex to be a barbaric, battle-like process for most of its life – it was the standard by which its species made love – but the stray humans its kind found wandering their territory didn't look built or inclined enough for such hard fucking, and usually broke quite easily once captured as playthings. The ruthless, uncaring passion shown by these creatures, however, belied their strong frames, indicating to the creature that they might be better fucktoys than the others.

	The monster continued to jerk itself idly, unseen by the bros, who were way too busy nearing their climax to perceive much of anything, let alone care; Vinnie, gasping for air, grunted under the ferocity of Throttle's thrusts, the brown mouse's cock flooding both his gullet and his lungs with precum as it swapped between them between thrusts. With a concerted effort, he tightened his grip on his bro's ass and forced the pole down his esophagus, holding it there with all of his strength in an effort to avoid drowning in his bro's cum. That action was fortuitously timed; just mere seconds after his dick found home in the white rodent's gullet, Throttle doubled over and screeched a pained moan, shooting his load in thick waves down into his bro's stomach. Surprised at the power of Throttle's orgasm, Vinnie gasped a breathless gasp as his own orgasm hit, thrusting his own hips into the air as his balls emptied into the forest floor. The sight of both explosions pushed Modo over the edge, almost collapsing into the inferno before him as he shot his own load; his legs buckled, dipping his genitals deeper into the flames, and he pointed his cock down farther still, aiming directly into the heart of the fire to feed it his cum directly, not caring one iota that the fur around his genitals and hands were starting to singe from the heat.

	The monster in the woods grunted at the sight before him, the smell of rutting male, singed fur, and boiling cum wafting into its nose as the wind shifted. The smell was intoxicating to it, and it screwed its eyes shut as it itself came, giving a low bellow that barely registered over the cries of the mice in their ears. As large of a load as the mice unleashed, the creature's dwarfed them, leaving a large puddle that seeped out of the treeline and into the glade. For a good minute or two, all four of them remained in that state, frozen in their mutual orgasms, pumping their semen out of their aching balls without a care. Surprisingly, it was the creature in the trees that recovered first, groaning silently as it rubbed its crotch, eyes still locked on the mice. Through its haze, it grinned, making note of the area for future reference; it would definitely be back to observe these beings more closely, study their habits before the hunt. Bringing its hand up to its face, it licked the semen off of its fingers, turning back to the dark forest and disappearing as the Biker Mice recovered, themselves.

	Vinnie was the first to regain his senses, the thickness of his bro's cock in in his throat suddenly becoming a bit too much to bear. With a sharp inhale, he slowly pulled his head off Throttle's crotch, the intruder slipping out of his mouth with a squelching 'schlurp'. As he pulled off, he applied suction to the pole, dragging the remaining dregs of cum from it. Just as the glans slipped past his lips, though, he started coughing, turning his head to avoid possibly vomiting on his bro's penis as he struggled to draw breath again. “Damn, bro,” he wheezed between coughs, cum drooling from his muzzle. “When I said I wanted to choke on your dick, I didn't mean that literally!”

	Throttle chuckled and sighed heavily. “Sorry, man. I guess I...Oh my god!” He gasped as he looked up, seeing the danger that Modo had unknowingly put himself in. “Modo! Get out of there, dude!”

	The sudden shout startled the gray rodent, and he stumbled back, yanking out his genitals from the fire as he fell onto his ass. Blinking in surprise, he looked down at himself, slapping at his crotch frantically as he saw small embers embedded in his crotchfur where it had come alight. His cock was bright red and hot to the touch, but thankfully, not burned, despite its bath in the flames. What shocked him the most was that he didn't feel any pain from it, only a tingling pleasure that slowly faded as his groin returned to its normal temperature. Once he made sure that all of the embers were out, he turned toward his bros, a sheepish look on his face.

	Throttle tsked him and shook his head. “What the fuck, bro? You could've gotten yourself burned, there!”

	“And you could've drowned me,” Vinnie pouted accusingly, giving the brown mouse's thigh a sharp elbow. His demeanor immediately changed, though, and he nuzzled Throttle's softening penis, affectionately. “Not that it wasn't worth it. That was one damn good facefuck!”

	Throttle laughed heartily and reached down, grabbing his cock to gently slap it against Vinnie's cheek. “Maybe next time I'll pin you down and do it even harder. It feels a hell of a lot better when you're forced to choke on dick instead of taking it voluntarily.” He gave Modo a sly wink, indicating he knew first-hand, garnering a slight chuckle from Vinnie.

	Modo returned the wink with a lopsided grin, spreading his legs as he continued to rub his crotch, allowing the heat from the campfire to more safely warm it up, again. “Well, I guess we know something that gets me off! Thanks for the heads-up, though, bro; don't want the goods cooked before we can have some fun with it...” They all laughed at that, releasing the tension that had built up from their intense sex. With one last grope, Modo waved to his bros to come to the campfire. “C'mon, it's getting late and we need to eat. Who's up for hot dogs and root beer?”

	Vinnie murred and nosed Throttle's cock again, giving its length a long, loving lick. “Mmmm, hot dogs...”

	The brown mouse grunted and grabbed his white counterpart's head again, pressing it against his bulge gently. “Oh, I'll give ya a 'hot dog', bro!” With that, he helped Vinnie up and walked with him over to the campfire.

	The rest of the night went about as well as one would expect from three uber-horny gay mice to go; the trio could barely keep their hands off of each other as they started roasting their hot dogs over the fire, Vinnie and Throttle teasingly making several “cooked wiener” jokes at Modo's expense.