In the dimly lit room, he stands, a statue of raw hunger. His cock tents his shorts, aching for freedom. He strips, revealing his toned form, every muscle honed for pleasure. He strokes himself, his hand a blur, his grip tight. His body tenses, his abs contracting as he fights the urge to come too soon. He's in control, and he loves it. This is his ritual, his private worship of his own desires.