Alone in his sanctuary, a boy seeks refuge in the rhythm of his own touch. His hand moves in steady, purposeful strokes, coaxing his cock to stand tall. The air is thick with his arousal, the scent of his precome a heady perfume. He bites his lip, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With a soft grunt, he tips over, his hot seed spilling onto his stomach, a secret testament to his private act of pleasure.