Devin Franco grips the cold metal, his dark hair damp with sweat as he strokes himself hard, the harness straining against his muscular frame. The black underwear barely contains the urgency of his grip, fingers slick with pre-cum as he leans forward, lost in the relentless rhythm. Michael Boston watches from the shadows, his presence implied in the tension of the scene, just the two of them, no limits.
+13+12+11+10+9+8
