Nick

Nick's the real deal—a strapping bo-hunk with that easygoing charm and boyish grin that hooks you right in. At twenty, he's fresh to the porn game, packing seven inches of solid heat, thick as a dog's favorite chew toy. He's got a thing for hard bones, though who knows where that comes from. His wildest romp? Right on a baseball field's pitcher's mound, daring fate with his girl under the open sky. Never tangled with another guy, but money whispers sweet nothings—he'd listen for the right price. Now, stripped bare, his body's a powerhouse: muscular yet chunky, arms like coiled ropes, pecs that demand attention, thighs built to crush. That waist? Thick, husky, no apologies. He grips the base of his shaft with his right hand, firm and unyielding, tamping his scrotum down low. His left takes charge, stroking that cock with steady rhythm. Standing tall at first, he works it slow. Then he drops to sit, hand bobbing up and down without mercy. A quick spit slicks the way; he squeezes his balls, bounces them playful-like, all while the strokes never quit. Sweat beads on his skin, heat rising fast. Down to the ground he goes, pounding his meat harder, quicker, breath ragged. He builds to the edge, then erupts—load shooting straight up like a wild geyser, an epic cum shot that hangs in the air. In the shower after, water cascading over him, he grins through the steam. Loved every second; he'd dive back in tomorrow. But next time? Switch up the positions, chase the high in fresh ways. Professional porn star? He chuckles, water dripping from his lashes. 'Nah, I need more reps, more practice. We'll get there one day.'