Aligned Fantasy
m.
He froze.
In the middle of the gym floor, Inojin was down on his chest, face pressed to the mat, ass raised high. His muscles trembled as he ruthlessly worked his own fingers in and out of himself. His breathing was ragged, eyes half-lidded. The moment their gazes met, Kota expected him to shout, to scramble to cover himself, to react with anger or shame.
Instead, Inojin let out a moan so raw and unguarded it sent a jolt straight through Kota’s body.
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