Cielito's solitude in the house is a treasure trove of stolen moments. Today, he chooses the living room, the large windows casting dappled sunlight onto his bare skin. He's stripped down to his boxers, the thin fabric doing little to hide his growing erection. He leans back on the couch, his hand sneaking under the elastic, his breath hitching as he wraps his fingers around his hard length. The room is filled with the sound of his soft moans and the rhythmic rustle of fabric as he loses himself in his private dance.