Heavy Balls, Heavy Breaths

In the dimly lit bedroom, a lone figure sprawls across the bed, eyes locked on the screen, hand already working beneath the sheets. The room fills with soft moans, the rhythm steady, building. Fingers curl around a pair of heavy, low-hanging balls, massaging, tugging gently. The breath hitches, quickens, as the tension builds, the hand moving faster, more urgent. The room is filled with the scent of sweat and the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, the symphony of solo pleasure.

• balls

• Unknown