Dom Ully sits shirtless on the edge of the bed, his tattooed chest glistening with medical tape as he traces his fingers over his own skin, then flips onto his back to finger himself with deliberate precision. The muscles of his arms ripple as he shifts onto his stomach, one arm raised to stretch, before rolling onto his side and pressing his palm against his face. By the end, he’s fully naked, every inch of his dark hair and inked torso exposed, his movements slow and unhurried.
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