With a naughty grin, he pushes down his shorts, his massive, curved cock springing free. He runs his hands along its length, his grip firm and steady. He loves the feel of his own flesh, the way it pulses with need. He imagines the tight, wet warmth of a mouth, a pussy, anything to ease the ache. His strokes become feverish, his body tensing as he chases his climax, his cries of pleasure echoing through the empty house as he paints his torso with his own seed.