The lake is still, a mirror of the sky above, rippling only when the breeze cuts across the surface. Pines line the edge, their shadows long in the late afternoon sun. The world is quiet, the kind of silence that makes every sound sharper, every movement heavier.

And he stands at the edge of it—alone, naked, unapologetic.

A man in his forties, hair touched with gray at the temples, body hard and fit from years of work and discipline. His chest is broad, abs still cut deep, thighs thick with muscle. Age has only sharpened him, left him carved and powerful, confidence radiating from every line of his body.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, already thickening with the charge of the open air. He wraps a hand around it, stroking slow, the veins swelling under his grip. His other hand brushes back through salt-and-pepper hair, eyes fixed on the water as if it belongs to him.

The breeze cools his skin, but his strokes heat him fast. His cock swells, stiff and red, throbbing with each tug. He breathes deep, chest rising and falling, a low groan slipping out as precum beads at the head and slicks down his shaft.

He plants his feet in the dirt, wide and sure, stroking faster now. His body flexes, muscles tight, veins standing out across his arms and stomach. The sound of his fist gliding over his cock mixes with the lap of water on the shore. He tips his head back, throat bared, a deep moan tearing out of him as he fucks his hand.

The world narrows to this: his body, his cock, the rush of release building in his core. His hips thrust into his fist, each pump rougher, hungrier, his breath breaking into sharp gasps. He’s grunting now, teeth clenched, body tensing as the orgasm surges through him.

Cum erupts from his cock in thick, hot ropes, splattering across his abs and chest, dripping onto his thighs. He pumps through it, snarling as more shoots out, streaking the dirt at his feet. The mess slides down his stomach, mixing with sweat, the air sharp with the scent of it.

When it’s over, he exhales hard, body relaxing, cock still twitching in his hand. He wipes his palm across his stomach, smearing the load across his abs, then runs his fingers slowly over the wet skin, savoring the ruin.

The lake stays calm, reflecting him back—a hot daddy, naked, fit, and proud, marked by his own release in the fading light.