A lanky, tanned teen, alone in his room, finds solace in his own company. The boy, Amador, tentatively explores his body, fingers tracing the lines of his lean muscles. His hand inches down, tentatively grasping his hardening cock. He strokes, eyes closed, lost in a world of his own making. The room fills with his soft moans, the sound of his hand working his shaft, and the slick noise of his foreskin sliding back and forth. His breath hitches, body tenses, and with a final gasp, he releases, painting his stomach with his seed.