A broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a smooth face leans against a wall, fingers brushing his cock through tight jeans, guitar slung low over his hips. His muscles ripple as he shifts his weight, one hand gripping the instrument’s neck while the other lingers just above his zipper. Bent over a fountain’s edge, he arches his back, the water rippling around his calves as he teases himself with slow, deliberate strokes. Every pose, against the wall, perched on stone, holds the quiet tension of a man who knows exactly what he wants.
By Fratmen
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