Solitary Bliss: Morning Wood

In the quiet of his room, he leans back, legs spread, and takes his thick cock in hand. His strokes are slow, deliberate, teasing the sensitive ridge and the weeping slit. He bites his lip, eyes closed, lost in the sensation. The room fills with the sound of his hand meeting his flesh, the wet slap of his palm against his balls. His breath comes in short gasps, his hips lifting off the bed as he nears the edge. With a final, hard pump, he comes, his cum shooting onto his abs, leaving him panting and spent.

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