Strokes of Solace

The metal chair creaks under his weight as he leans back, one hand casually flicking through social media, the other busy beneath the desk. His eyes dart to the closed door, ensuring his secret remains undiscovered. His strokes are slow, deliberate, each one a whispered promise to the release he craves. His thumb circles the sensitive head, spreading the pre-cum, the room echoing with his soft moans.

• handjob
• masturbation
• solo
• soloboy

• solo_-_masturbation