And then, Augustine's fingers hooked the waistband of his shorts.
With one smooth motion, he bent forward, peeling them down to his ankles.
As the fabric slipped off, the outline of his black boxer brief came into view—taut, soaked, and clinging to every inch of him.
"Damn," Charles purred, eyes darkening with heat. A teasing smirk tugged at his lips. "I didn't think you were wearing anything underneath."
Augustine let out a low scoff, his eyes locked on Charles. "You sure you're ready?" he asked, voice dipping into a seductive murmur.
Charles gave a small, eager nod, swallowing hard—his throat bobbing with anticipation.
With a deep breath, Augustine's fingers slid back to the waistband of his boxer brief. "Don't get nervous when you see my dick, alright?" he said, his voice teasing, sultry.
Charles nodded again—slower this time—like his body was moving on instinct, drawn in by the tension thickening between them.
Exhale!
