Dripping Wet 3

He stands alone. Shirt already gone, the light catching on his smooth chest and hard stomach. One hand rests at his waist, fingers slipping under the waistband of his briefs. The fabric stretches tight over the curve of his cock. He pulls the front down slow, letting it spring free, heavy and half-hard. A slow stroke follows. His grip is loose at first, just enough to make the skin slide. He watches himself grow in his hand, thickening with each pass. The head flushes dark. A bead of pre-cum gathers at the tip and he smears it over the crown with his thumb. He cups his balls, rolls them gently, then moves back to the shaft, working the length in firm, measured strokes. His breathing deepens. Shoulders tense. Hips start to push forward, meeting his fist. He turns slightly, showing the hard line of his ass, then faces forward again. His free hand slides down his thigh, then back up, gripping tighter now. Veins stand out along the length. He gives the head a firm squeeze, thumb circling the slit. His mouth parts. Eyes half-closed. The strokes come faster, wrist twisting on every upstroke. Sweat shines on his skin. He leans back against the wall, legs spread, and fucks his hand in long, deliberate thrusts. The rhythm builds until his thighs shake. Then he slows, savoring it, drawing out every slick pull until the tension knots low in his gut and he gives in to the need for release.