The New Breed

Bill Henson commands the frame once more, his lithe body a study in shadowed grace. He kneels on the rumpled sheets, fingers tracing the taut lines of his abdomen, teasing downward with deliberate slowness. His breath hitches—short, sharp gasps that punctuate the quiet room. Eyes half-lidded, he wraps his hand around his hardening cock, stroking with a rhythm that builds like a gathering storm. Veins pulse under his grip; pre-cum beads at the tip, slicking each firm pull. He arches back, muscles coiling, a low groan escaping his lips as pleasure surges through him. Faster now, his fist flies, hips bucking into the sensation, chasing that exquisite edge. Sweat gleams on his skin, every twist and thrust raw, unfiltered desire laid bare.