As the moon casts its silvery glow through the window, Cook begins his nightly ritual, his hands working diligently to relax his tense muscles. His touch lingers on his cock, the velvety skin soft yet firm, pulsing with desire. His strokes are slow, deliberate, drawing out his pleasure. The room fills with the scent of his musk, the sound of his ragged breaths echoing in the stillness. As his orgasm nears, his strokes quicken, his grip tightening. With a final, desperate thrust, he comes undone, his body shuddering as he coats his abdomen in his warm, creamy seed.