James' Solitary White Cock Appreciation

In the quiet of his sanctuary, James worships his own body, his hands tracing the contours of his muscular chest, his fingers skimming the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. His cock, hard and eager, stands at attention, awaiting his touch. He wraps his hand around it, his grip firm, his rhythm steady. His mind fills with filthy thoughts, of tongues licking, of mouths sucking, of bodies writhing. He groans, his voice echoing in the room, as he brings himself to the edge, his cock pulsing in his hand. With a final, guttural moan, he comes, his body convulsing, his cum painting his abdomen in white stripes.

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