Black Beauty: His Hands, His Pleasure

A lone figure stands before a full-length mirror, his dark skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. He's a study in contrast, his large, powerful body at odds with the delicate touch he uses to caress his length. His eyes, filled with a hunger that's almost painful, watch as his hand moves up and down his shaft. He's a maestro, his fingers dancing to a silent symphony, coaxing out every ounce of pleasure from his body. His breathing grows ragged, his grip tighter, until with a final cry, he paints the mirror with his essence, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

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• soloboy

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