With a hungry gaze, he watches his own reflection in the mirror, his hand working his stiff cock with practiced ease. The friction, the tightness of his grip, it's all he needs right now. His other hand cups his heavy balls, rolling them gently, adding another layer of sensation. His strokes become frantic, his hips bucking, chasing that sweet, familiar pressure building at the base of his spine. With a guttural moan, he comes undone, his cock pulsing as it paints his reflection with streaks of white, a primal marking of his solitary pleasure.