Carl Frost sits shirtless on the couch, his dark hair framing a smooth, muscular frame as he leans back and unbuttons his shirt, revealing the light skin beneath. His fingers glide over his body, then slip between his lips as he sucks them with deliberate focus, the act lingering long enough to make it clear this isn’t just foreplay. By the end, he’s fully undressed, sprawled across the couch in poses that leave nothing hidden, hands near his groin, tongue out, his body relaxed into the moment. The only thing more prominent than his movements is the way his fingers keep returning to his mouth.
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