In the dimly lit study, a married man unbuttons his crisp shirt, his eyes locked on the explicit images on his laptop. He's alone, his wife out with friends, and he's given in to his secret vice. His pants tent as he clicks through the gallery, his heart pounding. He stands, unbuckling his belt, his cock straining against his boxers. He strokes it, his grip firm, his movements swift. His moans fill the room, his body tensing as he nears his peak. With a final stroke, he comes, his spend spilling over his hand, his breath ragged. He cleans up, his secret safe, his desire temporarily sated.