Bernard's room is a sanctuary of solitude, the air thick with the scent of his arousal. His cock, a tower of flesh, stands proud and firm, a testament to his desire. He runs his hand up and down its length, feeling the smooth skin over the rigid core, his thumb brushing over the sensitive tip. His other hand cups his heavy balls, gently rolling and squeezing them, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through him. His body is a canvas of tension, every muscle taut as he chases his release, his moans low and guttural, echoing in the quiet room.