Quenching Solitary Thirst

In the dimly lit room, a lone figure sits, legs splayed, a stiff cock standing at attention. He wraps his hand around the shaft, a groan escaping his lips as he begins to stroke. The room is filled with the sound of wet flesh meeting flesh, the scent of sex heavy in the air. His other hand reaches down, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently as he continues to pleasure himself. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he nears the brink, his hand moving faster, more urgently, until with a final grunt, he comes, thick streams of cum shooting onto the floor, a testament to his pent-up desire.

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