Waking Up to Wanking

In the quiet of the morning, a lone figure stretches languidly in bed, the sun casting a warm glow through the curtains. The hand wanders down, fingers brushing against the growing bulge in the boxers. A soft gasp escapes as the cock is freed, throbbing and eager. It's a slow, sensual dance, the hand stroking the length, the thumb teasing the sensitive head. The room fills with soft, wet sounds and quiet moans, the air heavy with the scent of pre-come. The pace quickens, the breath hitches, and with a final, shuddering stroke, hot semen spills over, painting the chest in sticky, white lines.

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