Tyler Johnson sits on the couch, adjusting his blue underwear with deliberate slowness, his dark hair framing a muscular frame as he leans back into the cushions. His hand drifts to his crotch, fingers tracing the outline of his cock through the thin fabric, legs parting just enough to let the orange tank top ride higher. The shot lingers on the tension in his grip, the way his body shifts to frame himself, no hesitation, just the quiet confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing.
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