Marcelo, a man of few words and even fewer inhibitions, has locked himself in his room for a private session of self-love. His room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of his own musk. He sits on the edge of his bed, his large hand wrapped around his erection, his thumb brushing against the sensitive slit. His strokes are slow, measured, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through his body. His free hand wanders, tweaking his nipples, tracing the lines of his abs, before finally dipping down to tease his asshole. His pace quickens, his grip tightens, and with a final, low groan, he comes, his cock pulsing as it spills his load onto his stomach.