Solitary Teen Boy's Intimate Dance

The room is dim, the only light filtering in from the hallway, casting long shadows that dance with his movements. His body is a canvas, his hands the brush, painting strokes of pleasure onto his skin. His cock, thick and veiny, stands proud, begging for his touch. He obliges, his grip tight, his rhythm steady, driving himself closer to the edge. His hips buck, his breath comes in short gasps, and his body tenses as he spills over, painting his chest with his release.

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• soloboy

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