Christopher Kryll leans against the wall, shirt unbuttoned, his dark hair framing a muscular frame as he stretches his arms behind his head before sitting forward with hands on his knees. The candle flickers beside him as he shifts onto the bed, sheets white and crisp, his fingers tracing his groin before sliding down his thigh. His clean-shaven jaw tightens with focus as he lies back, hands moving deliberately, each touch deliberate and unhurried.
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