Whisking Himself to Ecstasy

The baker's hands, dusted with flour, work methodically, kneading the dough with expert precision. Yet, his mind wanders, his thoughts consumed by the thick, throbbing cock straining against his apron. He can't resist any longer, his desire overwhelming. He locks the door, the 'Closed' sign flipping with a satisfying click. He leans against the counter, his hand slipping beneath his apron, wrapping around his eager cock. His strokes are firm, confident, the sound of his hand moving over his flesh a rhythmic symphony in the silent bakery. His body tenses, his hips bucking forward as he spills his load, the warm cum coating his hand, a stark contrast to the cool, smooth countertop.

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