Joaquin Santana leans against the mirror, his dark hair slick with water, as he stretches his arms behind his head with the slow confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing. The blue swim trunks ride low on his hips, barely containing the thick cock he strokes with deliberate precision while the bathtub fills with running water. Sitting on the edge, then sinking into the tub, he washes his body with a sponge, each movement deliberate, the water rippling around his lean frame.
