Solitary Bliss: His Intimate Ritual
In the quiet solitude of his room, the young man closes his eyes, letting his senses guide him. His hand snakes down, tracing the curves of his body, pausing to tease his nipples into hard peaks. He breathes deeply, inhaling the scent of his own musk, feeling the heat of his arousal. His hand continues its journey south, fingers brushing against the growing bulge in his pants. He pops the button, allowing his hard cock to spring free, throbbing with need. He strokes it slowly, feeling the velvety softness of the skin, the steel-like hardness beneath. His breath hitches as he imagines hands other than his own touching him, mouths tasting him. His strokes quicken, his hips bucking as he nears the edge. With a final gasp, he spills over, painting his abdomen with streaks of white.