Soaked and Surrendered

Maxwell sent me a video last night fresh from the gym. Body exhausted. Muscles tight. And fuck, was he glowing.

He stepped into the shower, hit record, and gave me a private show. Water running down his back. Soap sliding over that trained, obedient body. Every inch on display — not for approval… but for worship.

He was slow about it.

Deliberate. Hands gliding over his chest, down his stomach, between his thighs…Eyes full of that same desperate need that never goes away. He didn’t say much. Just looked into the camera and whispered:

“I wish you were here, Daddy.”

Maxwell doesn’t just want to show off. He wants to be seen, claimed, and fucked raw until he can’t perform anymore.

And if I were there? He wouldn’t be washing. He’d be kneeling — soaking wet and exactly where he belongs.