In the dim light of his room, a man stands alone, his body a canvas for his own exploration. His hands, strong and sure, trace the lines of his torso, pausing at the thatch of hair at his groin. He takes his cock in hand, feeling its weight, its pulse. His eyes flutter closed as he begins to move, stroking himself with a rhythm as old as time. The room fills with the scent of his arousal, the sound of his pleasure, as he loses himself in the art of self-pleasure.