Punheta's Tight Grip: Slow Stroke to Ecstasy

The man's hand, like a punisher, grips his shaft with a slow, measured rhythm. His eyes closed, lost in the sensation of his own touch. The room filled with the sound of his labored breaths, each exhale a whisper of his building desire. His strokes grow faster, more urgent, until he's teetering on the edge, only to be cruelly denied by an unexpected interruption.

• boa
• punheta

• Unknown