Olaf, alone in his room, finds solace in his own touch. He strips down, his body bare and vulnerable. His hand wraps around his throbbing cock, a familiar grip that sends shivers down his spine. He strokes slowly, building a rhythm that matches his racing heart. His breath hitches as he tightens his grip, his movements becoming more urgent. The room fills with the sound of his pleasure, a symphony of moans and wet slaps. His body tenses, and with a final, ragged breath, he comes undone, his hot seed spilling over his hand.