The call to prayer echoes through the narrow streets of Lahore, but this young man's mind is elsewhere, consumed by a longing that can only be satisfied by the touch of another. With a quick glance around, he slips into a hidden doorway, his hand already working at his belt. His breath hitches as he wraps his fingers around his aching cock, the tight grip a poor substitute for the warmth of another's mouth. He pumps furiously, his eyes closed, lost in a fantasy that has played out a thousand times before. The scent of spices and distant cooking wafts on the breeze, mingling with the musk of his own arousal as he chases his climax, gasping and shuddering in the shadows.