Jonas Monteito, a man of few words, finds solace in his morning routine. His hand wraps around his thick, veiny cock, already rock hard from his dreams. He pumps it slowly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his imagination running wild with images of his friend, her body pressed against his, her breath hot on his ear. He picks up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent, his body tensing as he feels the familiar warmth spreading from his groin. He groans softly, his body convulsing as he spills his seed onto his belly, his heart pounding in his chest.