In the dimly lit room, our unnamed hero finds solace in his solitude. A single bead of sweat trickles down his chest as he leans back, his hand slowly tracing the outline of his hardening cock through his jeans. He unzips, letting his thickness spring free, already glistening with pre-cum. With a groan, he begins to stroke, his grip firm and steady. The room fills with the sound of his wet, sloppy handwork, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He fantasizes about the touch of another, but for now, it's just him and his unmarked milk, a solo dance of desire.