In the privacy of his room, the boy gives in to temptation, his hand wrapped around his pinga. He's a soloboy, but his imagination runs wild with images of other boys, their bodies entwined, their moans echoing. His paja becomes more intense, his grip tighter, until he can't hold back any longer. With a final thrust, he coats his abdomen with his creamy acabada, the scent of his desire filling the air.