Bored and horny, Roger Virre retreats to his room, closing the door behind him. His room is simple, adorned with posters of his favorite bands, and the scent of old books and cologne lingers in the air. He sits on his bed, his breath hitching as he unzips his jeans, revealing his throbbing, uncut cock. It's a monster, veins pulsing with desire, pre-cum already glistening at the tip. He wraps his strong, calloused hand around it, stroking slowly, his grip tightening as he picks up speed. His other hand reaches down, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently. His moans fill the room, low and guttural, as he fucks his fist, his hips lifting off the bed. His cock swells, his abs clench, and with a final, hard stroke, he comes undone, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach.