In the quiet of his room, the solo boy takes a seat, his mind filled with desires yet to be explored. His hand finds its way into his pants, wrapping around his hard, pulsing cock. He begins to stroke, his grip firm and steady, his imagination running wild. He pictures a lover's touch, the softness of a woman's body, the slick heat of her core. His breath hitches as he picks up the pace, his hand a blur as it works his length. The tension builds, coiling in his gut, until he can't hold back any longer. With a grunt, he comes, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed, his body relaxing as the waves of pleasure subside.