Castrejon's Unholy Solace
Enveloped in the oppressive heat, Aldo Ivan finds himself alone with his thoughts and desires. He peels off his clothing, his body slick with sweat, his cock already hard. He runs his hands over his chest, pinching his nipples, before moving down to grip his dick. He strokes it, his breath hitching as he imagines the forbidden acts he's longed to perform. He drops to his knees, his eyes never leaving his reflection, and takes his cock into his mouth, his throat convulsing as he struggles to take it all. He fucks his face, his body writhing as he pleasures himself, his moans echoing in the empty room. He stands, his hand a blur as he jerks himself off, his body tensing as he comes, his seed painting the floor as he rides out his intense, solitary release.