Jake Andrews grips his cock hard, his knuckles white as he pumps slow and deliberate, the muscles in his arms straining against the dark hair that frames his face. Leaning forward with one hand braced on his knee, he tilts his head back, the light catching the sharp lines of his jaw as he works himself with a focus that never wavers. The fabric behind him stays still, just a plain backdrop for the way his body shifts, hands on hips, arms crossed, legs spread, each pose locking in the tension of his own rhythm.
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