Solitary Ecstasy: A Boy's Private Dance

A day's work leaves him tired but eager. With no one to watch but the setting sun, he begins his nightly ritual. His hands, rough from years of manual labor, find their way to his belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease. His pants drop to the floor, revealing his eager, throbbing cock. He spits into his palm, lubricating his grip as he starts to stroke, his rhythm steady and sure, like the swing of a hammer or the turn of a wrench. The room echoes with his grunts and the wet sound of his fist around his shaft, a symphony of solitary pleasure.

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• soloboy
• trabajo

• Unknown