Gozando, alone in his room, lets his carnal instincts take over. He slowly peels off his clothes, his cock already hard and aching. He lies back, his hand wrapped around his length, his grip tight and steady. He imagines a lithe, faceless form beneath him, his hips thrusting forward, fucking into an unseen, welcoming warmth. His body tenses, his rhythm falters, and with a guttural groan, he comes, his cock pulsing as he coats his hand and stomach with his creamy seed.