Andre Cruz gets off hard

Andre Cruz sits back on the couch, his fingers already tracing the hard length between his legs, the muscles in his arms flexing as he leans into the motion. The patterned fabric of the couch creaks under him, his clean-shaven jaw tight with focus, while his dark hair falls forward as he strokes himself with deliberate, rough strokes. On the bed later, his hand moves faster, the sheets light and smooth beneath him, his face twisting in concentration as he works himself harder.