Anthony’s back and he’s a fucking monster. That hairy chest is begging to be licked, that smug grin makes you melt, and his cock is already swelling in his fist while he flexes over you.
You can’t help but worship—he loves it, thrives on it. The more you stare, the harder he gets, stroking his fat cock right in your face like the alpha muscle god he is. Built to be worshipped, and he knows it.