Sounding 8

In Sounding 8, Lance Navarro sits back in black boots and a stretched jock strap, the bulge already tight against the fabric. He wraps a calloused hand around his thick shaft and starts a slow, deliberate stroke while the cold metal tip of a sounding rod glints under the lights. The piercing in his nipple catches the same light as he leans forward, pressing the rod into his slit. His breathing turns ragged, each controlled push driving the steel deeper while his fist keeps the same steady rhythm. Sweat beads on his chest, and the rod vanishes inch by inch until the handle rests flush against his cockhead. Lance’s hips twitch, muscles locked, caught between the ache of the invasion and the need to keep jerking. The scene holds on that tension, the boot soles planted, the jock strap damp, the metal buried deep inside his own cock.