Antony Carter sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, his lean frame half-naked as he grips himself with rough, deliberate strokes. His light brown hair falls forward as he shifts onto his side, fingers tracing the tight heat of his asshole before slipping inside, the sheets patterned with the only texture in the room. Naked now, he lies on his back, legs splayed open, his hand moving between his thighs before circling back to the dark, waiting hole again.
