Lost in his own gaze, he commands his body, his hand a tool of pleasure. The mirror reflects his dominance, the curve of his back, the flex of his arm as he works himself. His cock, a thick, veined rod, disappears into his fist, reappearing slick and shiny. The room is a symphony of his grunts and the wet sound of his strokes. His belly clenches, his cock pulses, and with a final, powerful thrust, he comes, his seed splattering across the mirror, a testament to his self-indulgence.