ROHIT HINDU BOY NACKED BIG DICK WASHING BY SOAP IN BATHROOM

His hand gripped the thick base of his cock, veins bulging under dark, taut skin. Muscles flexed along his forearm as he stroked with deliberate, commanding power, every motion slow and heavy, like he owned the rhythm itself. Pre-cum slicked the crown, catching the light in thick, glistening beads as he dragged his palm over the head, squeezing a guttural growl from deep in his chest. He kept his eyes hard and unflinching, watching himself with pure dominance, savoring every throb, every twitch. His thighs tensed, skin sheened with sweat, hips shifting forward into his own fist like he was fucking it — no mercy, no hesitation, just raw control. He didn't whimper. He didn't beg. He commanded the pleasure, forcing it out with sheer will, until every hard stroke sent shudders through his towering frame. The power he radiated wasn't just in the size of him — it was in the way he moved, the way he owned every second, every inch of his body.