Matthew Attard sits on a couch, cap pulled low over his dark hair, face half-hidden behind a black covering while his muscular chest flexes as he adjusts his clothing. His hands hover near his groin, fingers tracing the blue underwear visible through the fabric, before he leans back, arms raised in slow, deliberate motions. Shirtless on the bed later, he repeats the same rhythm, spread legs, raised hands, the same restless touch near his cock, as if measuring the weight of his own need.
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