Eddy's boxers cling to his skin, the fabric stretched taut over his throbbing cock. He's been at this for what feels like an eternity, his loneliness driving him to seek solace in his own touch. His fingers, slick with his own spit and pre-cum, glide up and down his shaft, his grip tight and rhythmic. The smell of his own musk fills the room, a testament to his arousal. He's on the verge, his body tense, when he feels the sudden, urgent need to relieve his bladder. He doesn't stop, can't stop, as he pisses himself, the warm liquid soaking his boxers and pooling beneath him, adding a new sensation to his already intense solo session.