Lone Wolf's Intimate Ritual

The scent of sweat and sex permeates the air as our lonely wolf, Xhonyman, retreats to his private den. His body, a canvas of lean muscle and raw desire, aches for touch. He begins at his neck, tracing the path of his veins, before descending to his chest, tweaking his nipples until they're hard pebbles. His hand continues its journey south, past his navel, to the thick, pulsing cock that tents his shorts. He palms it, a growl escaping his lips, before pushing his shorts down, freeing his rigid length. He strokes it, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through him, his hips lifting off the floor as he chases his release.

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