Unabashed Urges: A Hard Cock's Lonesome Dance

The weight of loneliness presses down on him, fueling his carnal desires. He locks his door, ensuring no prying eyes will interrupt his illicit pleasure. His cock, already stiff and eager, tents his boxers. He pulls them off, his thick, veined shaft springing free, bobbing slightly with its own eager rhythm. He spits into his palm, slicking up his length, and begins to stroke. His grip is firm, his rhythm steady, his gaze locked onto the lewd sight of his hand working his cock. His breathing grows ragged, his strokes faster, his grip tighter. He can feel the familiar pressure building, his balls drawing up, and with a final, guttural groan, he comes, painting his chest with ropes of hot, white cum.

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