Craig Hunter kneels on jagged rocks, his muscular frame straining against the rough terrain as he grips his cock with a tight, deliberate grip. The sun carves sharp shadows across his clean-shaven jaw and dark hair, highlighting the way his fingers work over himself, close-ups lock onto his knuckles, his flexing abs, the slow, deliberate pull. His hole flexes as he milks himself, the outdoor light catching the sweat glistening on his back when he leans forward, one hand braced on the stone. The rocks press into his thighs as he shifts, the act and unfiltered, his breath steady through the motion.
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