As the sun peeks through the curtains, our unnamed stud stretches, his morning wood tenting the sheets. With a hungry groan, he pushes down his boxers, revealing his thick, veiny cock. He strokes it slowly, feeling every ridge, every pulse. His moans fill the room as he picks up speed, his hand a blur on his engorged flesh. The scent of pre-cum fills the air, mingling with the fresh morning breeze. His breathing hitches, and with a final, guttural groan, he spills his load, ropes of cum painting his abs.