In the dim light of his den, a man worships his own body. His hands, slick with lube, trace the lines of his chest, his abs, his thighs. He grips his cock, feeling its heat, its pulse. He strokes, his rhythm steady, his gaze locked on the mirror. His reflection shows a man lost in pleasure, his mouth open in a silent cry. His pace quickens, his grip tightens. He's close, so close. With a final, desperate stroke, he comes, his body shuddering as he paints the mirror with his release.