Broke Emo Boys' Gay Masturbation Marathon
In the dim, cramped room, the aroma of stale cigarettes and sweat hangs heavy. Ty, the group's dominant force, sprawls on the couch, his lanky body covered in angst-ridden tattoos. He's the first to start, his hand slowly stroking his cock, pre-cum already beading at the tip. His friends, a mix of pale, lean bodies and dark, muscular frames, follow suit, their hands working their dicks in sync. Diesel, the newest addition, hesitates, his massive, uncut cock resting heavily on his thigh. Encouraged by the others, he joins in, his hand tentatively wrapping around his shaft. The room fills with the sound of their pleasure, the wet, rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh, and the occasional whimper as they edge, their bodies tensing, their cocks throbbing, desperate for release, yet bound by their self-imposed rule to prolong their pleasure.