Cortei, untethered and uninhibited, puts on a private show for himself. His lithe body writhes on the bed, fingers dancing over his skin, pinching his nipples, tracing the V of his hips. His cock, hard and throbbing, demands attention. He wraps his hand around it, pumping slowly, then faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He's a wild thing, untamed, lost in the rhythm of his own desire. His body tightens, his back arches, and with a final, guttural cry, he comes undone, his seed spilling over his hand and onto the sheets.