In the heat of Ecuador, a man loses himself in the rhythm of paja. His hand, slick with sweat and precum, glides up and down his rigid pene. His eyes roll back, mouth open, panting. He's close. His grip tightens, his strokes faster, more urgent. A growl rumbles in his chest as he explodes, thick ropes of semen shooting from his pene, coating his hand and dripping onto the worn floorboards. He leans back, spent, his chest heaving, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.