A lone man with dark hair and a smooth, lean build kneels on the weathered dock, his fingers working his cock as the greenish water laps against the planks below. He sits forward, gripping himself with deliberate force, then shifts into a squat, the red towel beneath him catching the light as he adjusts his grip. The dock holds him steady, no hands, no distractions, just the motion of his own hand moving over his shaft.
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