(mh=6R08yBRWbsVkyY2N)16.jpg)
The marine's quarters echo with the sound of his zipper descending, a symphony of anticipation. His massive, veined cock springs free, a sight that would make any drill sergeant blush. He runs a rough hand along its length, feeling the heat and pulse of his arousal. His other hand traces the tattoos on his chest, a landscape of ink and muscle, as he begins to stroke, his grip tight, his rhythm steady, a private, explicit parade for one.