Vídeo, a man of few words and even fewer companions, retreats to his room, a sanctuary from the world's judging eyes. He sheds his clothes, the fabric whispering against his skin, and lies back on his bed. His hand wraps around his length, a tight, familiar grip. He pictures the soft curves of a woman, the wet heat of a mouth, as he pumps his cock. His body tenses, his breath comes in ragged gasps, as he spills his seed onto his stomach, a testament to his solo sins.