Dave's hands roam his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, pausing to tweak his nipples before descending to his throbbing cock. He's in no rush, taking his time to appreciate the feel of his own skin, the weight of his balls, the velvet smoothness of his shaft. His strokes are slow, deliberate, building a steady rhythm that has him teetering on the edge. With a low groan, he gives in, his body convulsing as he spills his load, his cock pulsing in his hand until he's spent.