Curtis Mitchell lounges shirtless on an inflatable pool, his dark hair framing a muscular frame as he stretches out with legs splayed, a drink in hand and a shoe dangling from his fingers. The pool’s bright borders contrast with his smooth skin as he shifts from leaning back with arms behind his head to bending forward, arms braced on knees, each pose deliberate, the clothes slipping away until he stands naked, the only sounds the clink of glass and the slow unraveling of fabric.
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