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Golden Showers in Solitude
A lone figure enters the bathroom, his eyes scanning the sterile, white room with an almost reverent awe. He's young, barely legal, with a body that's still learning its angles and planes. His cock, however, is anything but uncertain, a thick, veiny beast that stands proudly at attention. He sits on the closed toilet lid, his hand wrapping around his shaft, his grip firm yet gentle. He begins to stroke, his movements slow and deliberate, each pull of his hand drawing out a bead of clear, sticky liquid from the tip of his cock. The room fills with the sound of his steady breathing, each exhale a testament to his growing arousal. As he continues to stroke, he leans back, his eyes closed, his mind filled with fantasies that make his cock twitch and his balls tighten. He's close, so close, his body tensing as he prepares for release. And then, with a final, deep exhale, he lets go, his cock pulsing as it releases a stream of hot, white cum onto the cold, hard tile floor.