Solitary Ecstasy: A Cumshot Symphony
In the quiet of his apartment, a man, dressed in nothing but a loose pair of boxers, sits on the edge of his bed. His mind wanders, his hand reaches down, and before he knows it, he's hard as a rock. He pushes his boxers down, his cock springing free, standing at attention. He wraps his hand around it, feeling the heat, the pulse. He starts to stroke, his hand moving in steady, practiced motions. He's lost in his thoughts, his fantasies, his body responding to the rhythm of his hand. His grip tightens, his strokes quicken, his breath hitches. He feels his orgasm building, the pressure in his balls growing. With a final, powerful stroke, he comes, his cum spilling over his hand, his body shuddering with the force of his release. He milks every last drop, his body finally still, his breathing returning to normal. He smiles, satisfied, before cleaning up and going about his day.