Morumbi's Sinful Solitude: A Boy's Punheta

The boy, alone in his room, lets his fingers dance along his length, a punheta to ease his pent-up desires. His eyes flutter closed, imagining the touch of another as he quickens his pace, the sound of his hand meeting his cock filling the room. His body tensing, he nears the edge, his release hot and satisfying, a secret pleasure in the heart of Morumbi.

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