In the dead of night, an Argentine school's vigilante, unable to resist his carnal urges, prowls the halls, seeking solace in his own hand. His thick, uncut pija throbs with need, and he strokes it feverishly, his mind filled with lurid fantasies of the students he's sworn to protect. His grip tightens as he recalls the young men's lithe bodies and eager mouths, their innocent faces twisted in lustful ecstasy. With a guttural groan, he spills his hot seed onto the cold tile floor, his heart pounding in his chest as he prays for a moment of relief from his relentless desires.