In the quiet solitude of his room, a man loses himself in his own touch. His hands, rough and skilled, trace lines down his torso, pausing at the thick, rigid cock standing at attention. He strokes it, feeling the velvety skin stretch over the iron core, a groan escaping his lips. His eyes squeeze shut, imagining forbidden fantasies as his rhythm increases, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. His body tenses, every muscle taut as he nears the edge, before finally plummeting into his release, his hot seed spilling over his fingers.