Seated on the edge of his bed, he spreads his legs wide, his hand already wrapped around his hard pepino. He's in no rush, savoring the sensation of his own touch. He leans back, his eyes closed, his mind filling with vivid fantasies. His strokes are slow, deliberate, his grip tight. He can feel the pleasure building, his body tensing. He lets out a soft moan, his hand moving faster, his grip tightening. He's close, so close. With a final stroke, he comes, his body convulsing as he paints his abdomen with his warm leche, his mind blank with post-orgasm bliss.