(mh=5xfyvb3o2CT0OovA)2.jpg)
An anonymous hotel room, a tattooed Adonis stands before the window, his reflection a mere suggestion in the glass. His hand, a shadow against his substantial cock, begins a rhythm as old as time. The city lights below flicker, unaware of the private performance unfolding above. His strokes grow bolder, his breath fogging the window. He imagines the strangers below, their eyes drawn upward, their minds filled with the same naughty thoughts that drive his own lust. With a final, desperate thrust, he comes, his body shuddering as he marks the window with his forbidden fruit.