Bailey Shaw stretches across the bed in a pink strap-on, his muscular frame flexing as he poses with the harness near his face, then flops onto his back with legs spread wide. The white sheets cling to his light skin as he rolls onto his side, legs bent, before raising them high again, each position framing the harness differently, the strap glinting against the sheets. His short dark hair stays out of the way as he shifts, the harness never leaving his grip, the only thing holding his attention.
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