A man, driven by primal urges, takes to his bed, his hand a poor substitute for the real thing. He strokes his rigid cock, his grip tight, his pace relentless. His body responds, his breath hitching, his balls drawing up tight. With a guttural groan, he finds his release, his cock pulsing as it coats his hand and belly with his sticky, creamy load. Sated, he collapses back, his heart pounding, his body coated in a sheen of sweat.