(mh=crK9MqecTQ0u3i7Q)12.jpg)
Unaware of prying eyes, he retreats to his private space. His hand finds its way to his throbbing member, giving it the attention it craves. The room fills with his soft moans and the wet sound of his palm against his flesh. As he nears the edge, a creaking floorboard gives him away, but it's too late - he's already painting his chest with his pent-up load.