Soap suds and solo sin in the stall

The glass door slides open, revealing a naked, dripping form, his hard cock bobbing invitingly. The scene is primal, the air thick with the scent of soap and sweat. He leans back, one hand braced against the wall, the other working his shaft with increasing urgency. Water beads on his chest, tracing paths down to his navel, then lower still, mingling with the pre-cum leaking from his tip. His moans echo off the tiles, a symphony of carnal desire. His body tenses, his grip tightens, and with a final, shuddering stroke, he finds his release, hot streams of cum mixing with the water at his feet.

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