The tattooed man in the red bandana sits on a crate, adjusting it before leaning against the wall, his hand already resting on his own ass. He strips off the bandana, then drops to his knees on the crate, fingers tracing his skin as he poses, then collapses onto the bed, still gripping his ass. Every shot lingers on that touch, his body relaxed yet deliberate, the only movement his hand sliding lower.
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