He's trying to be good, to focus on his tasks, but his body betrays him. His cock, a monster in his pants, pulses with need, pressing against the fabric, seeking release. He's trying to ignore it, to push it down, but it's no use. His mind fills with images of tight, wet holes, of eager mouths and hands. He can't take it anymore. He unzips, his cock springing free, a vein throbbing along its length. He grips it, feeling the heat, the pulse, and starts to stroke, his balls heavy with need.