The Soultoucher, a nameless enthusiast, finds solace in the rhythmic dance of his hand around his eager cock. He's an amateur in the eyes of the world, but a master of his own pleasure. His horny imagination paints vivid scenes, each one more explicit than the last. He pictures soft, eager lips, tight, wet holes, and the delicious friction of skin on skin. His strokes become urgent, his breath ragged. His body tenses, then releases in a flood of ecstasy, his essence coating his hand, a testament to his self-love.