The crisp rustle of Tela Sire's rompeviento pants against his skin is the only soundtrack in the silent room. The smooth, shiny nylon hugs his body, the coolness a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from within. He runs his hands over the fabric, feeling the smoothness, the slight give as he presses against his hardening cock. The anticipation is almost too much, the sensation of the fabric against him both tantalizing and frustrating. He can't help but let out a moan, his body aching for more as he begins to rub himself, the friction through the slick material sending waves of pleasure coursing through him.