Hidden from the world, a lone figure indulges in his primal urge. The room, bathed in the soft glow of a solitary lamp, becomes his stage. His body, his instrument, responds to his touch, his strokes. His cock, engorged and eager, demands attention. He obliges, his hand wrapping around it, moving in a rhythm as old as time. His breath comes in short gasps, his body arches, and with a final, shuddering groan, he finds his release, his cock throbbing in his hand as he coats it with his essence.