Chris Catharsis sits on the edge of the bed, fingers already tracing the tight skin of his own asshole, his lean frame stretched out in slow, deliberate movements. He rolls onto his side, gripping his cock with one hand while the other presses against his hole, the blanket pooling around his hips as he works himself open. Standing with his hands braced behind his head, he bends forward, the weight of his body pulling his ass higher, his fingers still moving in tight, rhythmic circles. The bed creaks as he shifts, his smooth, short hair catching the light as he turns to look down, his cock already slick with his own touch.
