Dillon Diaz stands by the window, gripping his cock hard as he strokes fast, his dark hair slick with sweat and his muscles straining under the light. Cole Connor leans against the wall behind him, watching with a hungry stare as Dillon’s fist moves relentlessly, his own hand already wet with anticipation. The air hums with the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against shaft, the only sound in the room the, unfiltered need of a man who knows exactly what he wants.
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