Fit For Service

Cavin Knight's hand drifts to his crotch, fingers pressing against the rigid swell of his cock, tracing its impressive girth through the fabric of his pants. He frees the throbbing length, wrapping his grip around it with purpose. His fist pumps the shaft—up and down, steady and sure, a rhythm honed by countless solo sessions. Pleasure builds fast; he strokes harder, quicker, breath hitching in sharp bursts that match the blur of his flying hand. Then, temptation pulls him lower: he parts his cheeks, fingertips teasing the tight ring of his sphincter with wicked precision. Back to the main event, he yanks with fierce intent until ecstasy erupts, his load spilling in hot, pulsing ropes.