Poya, in his pajamas, succumbs to his desires in the quiet of his room. His hands, tentative at first, grow bolder, tracing the lines of his body, his imagination painting vivid, carnal scenes. His pajama pants tent, betraying his arousal, as he strokes himself, his movements becoming more insistent, his breath ragged, until he finds his climax, his body shuddering with the intensity of it.