Jordan Levine stands shirtless on jagged rocks, his tattooed arms flexing as he leans against a car, then shifts to brace himself on stone, each pose sharp, deliberate, his body angled to show every inch of inked muscle. He grips himself hard, his knuckles white, the sun catching the sweat glistening on his back as he bends forward, legs spread wide on the rough terrain, fingers working fast. The only sound is the rasp of his breath and the wet slap of his palm against his cock, his head tipped back as he loses himself to it.
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