The camera pans over to Greg, his back against the wall, legs spread wide, pants pooled around his ankles. His hand moves with a rhythm born of familiarity, his grip tight, his pace steady. He's lost in his own world, his eyes closed, his breath hitching as he nears the edge. His body tenses, his stomach clenching as he lets out a low moan, his hot, sticky load spilling over his hand and onto the floor. He opens his eyes, a look of satisfaction on his face, before cleaning up and leaving the room, leaving behind a mess and a tantalizing whiff of his recent release.