Lost in the rhythm of his own heartbeat, a boy dances alone in the dim light. His hands roam freely, caressing the firm muscles of his arms, the lean planes of his stomach, before descending to the aching hardness below. He grips himself, his thumb swirling over the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of moisture that has gathered there. His hips move in time with his strokes, his body yearning for more as he chases the sweet oblivion of release.