Felipe Capuco leans over a counter, laptop in hand, his dark hair framing a chest covered in ink as he strips off his shirt, one hand gripping the screen, the other undoing buttons. The tattooed muscles ripple under fading fabric, the countertop cluttered with empty bottles while his fingers work faster, the shirt slipping free. By the end, he’s fully exposed, the laptop forgotten as his focus shifts to something else entirely.
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