Donny Wright plays with his schlong

Donny Wright leans against the wall, fingers tracing the thick ridge of his cock through his shirt, before yanking it off to reveal his smooth, muscular chest and the heavy length between his legs. He grips himself hard, his dark hair framing a face that doesn’t look away as he settles onto the yellow stool, then the white toilet seat, each position letting his hands work the shaft with slow, deliberate strokes. The only sound is the wet slap of his palm against skin, the way his breath hitches when he leans back, shirt discarded, and lets his fingers drag lower, right to the root, where the head glistens.