Wankaphon, alone in his room, decides to indulge in his most primal desires. He kicks off his pants, his semi-hard cock springing free, eager for attention. He grips it firmly, his strokes slow and steady, building a rhythm that sends shivers down his spine. The room fills with the sound of his wet, slapping strokes, the scent of his pre-cum heavy in the air. He can feel his orgasm building, his balls drawing up tight. With a final, rapid series of strokes, he feels his cock pulse, his cum shooting out in thick ropes, coating his hand and cock in his sticky, white seed.