In the sultry heat of the afternoon, a lone man, Arfan Khan22, retreats to his bedroom, driven by an insatiable hunger. He strips, revealing his toned, tanned body, and spreads his legs, his uncut cock already throbbing. He strokes it, feeling the familiar pulse, the anticipation building. He spits on his hand, lubing up, and brings it to his tight entrance, pushing a finger in, then two, fucking himself. His other hand works his cock, harder, faster, until he's a moaning, writhing mess. Cum boils in his balls, and with a final, desperate thrust, he comes, his cock pulsing, ropes of jizz painting his abs, his chest, his face.