James Nowak stands with his towel draped low, fingers tracing his chest as he leans against the railing, his dark hair catching the light. The fabric brushes his groin in slow, deliberate motions, his muscular frame flexing as he adjusts the towel just enough to tease. Every pose, hand on hip, phone raised, profile turned, keeps the focus on the way the towel clings, the way his body shifts under it.
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