Solitary Soldier Strokes His Solitary Sword

In the dimly lit room, a lone figure stands, his body taut with anticipation. His hand, a skilled soldier's, knows the terrain of his body intimately. He begins his patrol, his hand tracing the valleys and peaks of his flesh, lingering on the hard, throbbing mound that stands at attention. His grip is firm, his strokes deliberate, a dance of dominance and desire. His breath hitches, his body stiffens, and with a final, decisive thrust, he claims his victory, his essence spilling forth, a testament to his solitary triumph.

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• polla
• soloboy

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