In the quiet of his room, a boy finds solace in the familiar rhythm of self-pleasure. He strips down to his boxers, his cock tents the fabric, eagerly awaiting release. He slips a hand inside, squeezing his length, feeling the heat. He closes his eyes, his imagination running wild with scenes of forbidden fruit. His hand moves faster, his breathing becoming ragged. He pushes his boxers down, his cock slapping against his stomach. He groans, his body convulsing as he spills over, his come painting his stomach in sticky, white streaks. He catches his breath, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.