Unbridled: The Lonely Dance

Alone in his room, he succumbs to his desires, his hand a poor substitute for the real thing. He's 'Calentando,' burning, his body responding to the fantasy playing out in his mind. His strokes become more urgent, his breath ragged as he chases his release. The room is a symphony of his pleasure, the sounds of his body moving, the wet slap of flesh on flesh, the gasps and moans that escape his lips.

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