Peter Fulton stands in the woods, his light hair catching the dappled light as he flexes his muscular arms, tattoos glinting under the bamboo fronds. One hand grips his head, another stretches upward, his legs spread wide as he bends backward, fingers brushing his own ass. The wooden fence behind him frames the scene, his body angled just enough to make the air feel thick with the weight of his own strength.
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