The room is dim, the only sound the soft hum of the laptop and the wet, slick sounds of a man's hand working his cock. He's a solo artist tonight, his audience the willing participants on the screen. His cock is hard, straining, as he watches the action unfold. His hand moves, steady, sure, as he strokes himself, his grip tight, his pace quickening. He's close, his breath coming in short gasps, his hips jerking forward. Then, with a low moan, he comes, his cock pulsing, his cum spilling over his hand, a mess he'll clean up later, his mind already planning his next solo session.