In the quiet of his room, a young man, unseen and unjudged, succumbs to the primal urge. His hand, calloused from use, grips his stiff cock with practiced ease. He strokes, long and slow, feeling every vein, every ridge. His breath hitches as he imagines a lover's touch, a wet mouth, a tight cunt. He grunts, his body tensing as he spills his seed, his come painting his belly, a testament to his solo pleasure.