The boy's room is filled with the soft, steady rhythm of his hand on his cock. He's learned the dance of solo pleasure, his body knowing the steps even if his mind is still learning the nuances of desire. He leans back, eyes closed, picturing the girl from his math class, her smile, the way her hair falls across her face. His strokes become more urgent, his breath coming in short gasps as he chases his orgasm, his body shuddering as he finds release, his cock pulsing as he paints his hand with his teenage seed.