In the throes of his private ritual, the boy's cock pulses with need. He spits onto his hand, lubricating it before wrapping it around his shaft. His strokes are steady, his grip firm, his breath ragged. He imagines a faceless lover, their body pressing against his, their hands joining his in his debauchery. He feels the pressure building, his balls tightening, and with a final, animalistic groan, he releases, his cum mixing with his piss, creating a sticky, salty mess. He collapses, spent, onto the floor, his body coated in his own filth, a sense of satisfaction washing over him.