Milking thePressure

The tension in the room was palpable, a silent agreement hanging in the air. Name231I's hand began to move rhythmically, gripping the throbbing shaft with practiced ease. The wet sounds of flesh on flesh filled the void, punctuated only by the occasional gasp. The pace quickened, the grip tightened, and with a final, shuddering groan, the tension was released in a warm, thick rope of cum that painted the wall, the floor, and the hand that had coaxed it forth.

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