It’s Christmas Eve and this boricua papi is already unwrapping himself. He tugs the little bow off his waistband and lets the shorts hit the floor, already half hard.
He leans back on the couch and starts working himself slow, kicking off one sock but leaving the other on. The tree lights move across his chest while he takes his time with it.
He glances at the camera once, grins, then forgets it’s even there. His phone starts buzzing somewhere in the kitchen and he just keeps going.
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