The clock ticks, the room is quiet, and the only sound is the soft, rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh. A man in his late fifties, his body a roadmap of life's experiences, is lost in his own world. His hand, calloused from years of labor, grips his stiff cock, sliding up and down the length with practiced ease. His eyes flutter closed, his jaw clenches, and with a final, powerful stroke, he finds his release. His cum sprays out, coating his hand and the floor, a testament to his morning pleasure.