Solitary pleasure, messy conclusion

In the throes of self-pleasure, a lone figure loses himself in the rhythm of his own touch. His dick, hard and aching, is the center of his universe, demanding release. He jerks it roughly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body tensing as he nears the edge. The room is thick with the aroma of his arousal, his grunts of pleasure filling the silence. His hand moves faster, his grip tighter, and with a final, desperate stroke, he comes undone, his cock pulsing as it spills its load, painting his abdomen and the floor beneath him with strings of pearly cum.

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