In a private, smoke-filled room, Metal Cock 77 takes center stage. The camera pans over his muscular frame, pausing at his crotch. His cock, thick and veined, is already semi-hard, tenting his boxers. He leans back, his eyes locked onto the lens, as he frees his meat. His hand wraps around the shaft, stroking slowly, building a rhythm. The room fills with the sound of skin on skin, his breath growing ragged. His pace quickens, his grip tightening, until with a final, guttural groan, he releases, his cum splattering onto his stomach.