Alone in his space, a man named Grop indulges in his private fantasy. His hands, rough and eager, caress his throbbing cock, drawing out his pleasure. He's a master of his body, teasing and tormenting himself until he's a bundle of nerves. His moans are music to his ears, the symphony of his desire filling the room. His body tenses as he nears his peak, his grip tightening, his breath ragged. With a final, guttural moan, he finds his release, painting his hand with his warm, sticky seed.