Allen Cole sits on a red bench, his light brown curls framing a lean, smooth body as he runs his hands over his own skin, the outdoor greenery blurred behind him. The close-ups linger on his ass, the way his fingers trace the curve before he drops to his knees, squatting with deliberate slowness. His groin fills the frame, the tension in his posture making every shift of his weight feel deliberate. By the end, he’s naked, posing with hands on his head, then behind it, the bench and the wall his only audience.
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