Na Modda Kavala, the sultry Telugu boy, finds himself alone in his room, the scent of incense filling the air. His cock stirs in his pants, aching for release. He unbuttons his shirt, letting it fall to the floor, then pushes down his pants, stepping out of them. His hard cock tents his boxers, and he can't resist any longer. He pulls out his cock, stroking it gently at first, then with more urgency. He imagines a boy from his village, forbidden and taboo, and his cock throbs in his hand. He fucks his hand harder, faster, until he can't hold back any longer. With a guttural groan, he comes, his cum splattering onto his hand and the floor, leaving him breathless and spent.