Two muscular men in a locker room, one broad-shouldered with tattoos sprawled across his arms and shoulders, the other leaner but no less defined, their clean-shaven faces locked in the quiet intensity of a shared moment. The larger one squats low, adjusting himself with deliberate hands while the other leans forward, his own cock thick and visible as he reaches for something unseen. Buttocks flex under the weight of the bench, tattoos peeking from beneath the curve of their backs as they shift, the air thick with the weight of their bodies and the unspoken rhythm of what comes next.
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