Ervinthagod's eyes flutter open, the dim light of the restroom barely piercing the darkness. His bladder demands attention, and he complies, the relief of the first stream of piss making him groan. But the sensation of his own hand on his hardening cock, slick with piss and precum, is too tempting to resist. He begins to stroke, his grip firm, his pace steady. The sound of his piss hitting the water, the smell of it filling the small space, only serves to fuel his lust. He's awake now, in more ways than one.