Melomelovc, a man of Portuguese descent, finds himself in a state of carnal deprivation. His body yearns for touch, for release, but he's left to his own devices in a world of solitude. He retreats to his private sanctuary, a room filled with the echoes of unfulfilled desires. He disrobes, his body a canvas of need and want. His hand wraps around his stiff cock, a poor substitute for the warmth of another. The room grows thick with the scent of his lust, a silent cry for connection in the language only the body understands.