In the dead of night, Amit's bedroom transforms into a private playground. His beefy cock, straining against his boxers, demands attention. He obliges, freeing the monster from its cotton prison. The sight of his engorged flesh, veined and leaking, sends shivers down his spine. His hand wraps around the girth, pumping slowly, building a rhythm that matches his racing heart. The room echoes with his grunts and the sticky sounds of his palm meeting his swollen head, a symphony of carnal pleasure in the stillness of the night.