Kyle Prescott strips slowly, his muscular frame flexing as he unties the robe, letting it slip from his shoulders while his dark hair stays neatly in place. The couch cushions stay neutral as he shifts positions, leaning forward with knees spread, then lying back with his hands behind his head, each move deliberate. His clean-shaven jaw tightens when he bends over, legs splayed wide, before collapsing onto his stomach, the robe now discarded. The only thing left is the way his body moves, from seated to sprawled, every angle exposing what he’s built for.
