Emir Boscatto grips his crotch with a tattooed hand while his bearded, muscular frame leans into the green upholstery, the chair’s rigid support barely containing his restless weight. Tyler Berg watches from the shadows, his dark hair framing a face that doesn’t move, just waits, the air thick with the unspoken pull of what’s coming next. The only sound is the slow, deliberate press of fingers against skin, a promise before the real work begins.
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