The room is filled with the soft sound of a man's voice, barely a whisper, as he recites a familiar mantra. His eyes are closed, his hands moving slowly over his body, exploring every curve and dip. He's alone, but his mind is crowded with images of others, their touch, their taste, their scent. He's a soloist, performing an intimate dance for one, his body the stage, his pleasure the ultimate goal. He takes his time, building the tension, drawing out the anticipation, until finally, he reaches the crescendo, his body shuddering with release.