The boy's room is bathed in the soft glow of twilight, his body silhouetted against the window. He stands, his hands tentatively exploring the changes puberty has wrought. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as he traces the lines of his body, his breath hitching as he reaches the heat between his legs. He wraps his hand around his length, feeling it pulse and grow. His movements are slow, almost hesitant, as he learns the rhythm of his body, his moans soft whispers in the quiet room. His climax is a sudden, intense wave, his body tensing, then melting into the soft sheets, his body marked with the evidence of his newfound pleasure.