The good doctor, alone and uninhibited, takes full advantage of his empty home. He strips naked, his body a map of desires, and sits in his leather chair. His cock, a tower of flesh, juts out, rigid and ready. He spits into his palm, lubricating his hand, and begins to stroke, his grip tight, his rhythm steady. His balls tightening, he lets out a low growl, his cock pulsing as he unloads his pent-up desire onto his tanned, muscular stomach.