In the heart of the city, a lonely figure seeks solace in the shadows. His hand wanders down, finding the bulge in his pants, and he begins to rub, feeling the heat and hardness through the fabric. The sounds of the city fade away, replaced by the sound of his zipper descending, the whisper of his boxers hitting the floor. His cock stands proud, and he wraps his hand around it, the skin smooth and slick. He starts to move, his hand working up and down, his grip firm. His breath comes in short gasps, his body tensing as he chases his release, the city lights blurring around him.