The weathered man, alone in his dimly lit room, grabs his electric razor. He's been thinking about this all day, the hum of the razor, the vibration against his skin. He turns it on, the sound filling the room. He runs it over his body, the bristles tickling, teasing. His cock tents his pants, and he can't resist. He presses the vibrating head against his length, groaning at the sensation. He unzips, his cock springing free, and he continues, the buzz against his shaft driving him crazy. He strokes, the vibrations pushing him closer, until finally, he comes, his load splattering onto the worn carpet.