A single cock stands tall, abandoned in the silent, fluorescent-lit office. Its owner, absent, has left it untended, yearning for touch. A hand, ghostly in the empty space, begins to stroke, the friction sending shivers up the shaft. The office chair creaks softly as the unseen man leans back, his grip tightening, his breath growing ragged. The cock, slick with precum, slides easily through his fist, its owner lost in a world of his own desire, chasing the high only his own touch can bring.