The lean Czech boy with dark hair leans against a wall, his clean-shaven jaw tight as he shifts from shirt to nothing, fingers tracing his own skin before pausing mid-motion. Sitting on a chair, then the floor, he holds a shoe to his chest, a phone to his lips, his towel draped just enough to tease what’s underneath, until it isn’t. The mirror reflects his posture, his hands, the way he tilts his head when the camera lingers on his mouth.
By Czech Boys
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