Tom Chase stands shirtless against a wooden bench, his muscles rippling as he adjusts his grip before lowering himself onto the rough grain, the sun casting sharp shadows across his defined torso. His dark hair falls just past his collarbone, framing a face that shifts from concentration to quiet satisfaction as he strips off his pants, leaving only the faintest hint of a tattoo peeking from beneath his waistband. The outdoor air brushes against his bare skin, the bench’s cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he positions himself, the final act leaving no doubt about what comes next.
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