First Light, First Touch

In the quiet of the morning, a lone figure awakens, his body already stirring with desire. He's a soloboy, savoring the freedom of his empty house, the freedom to indulge in his morning ritual. He traces the lines of his body, his hands rough yet gentle, igniting sparks wherever they touch. His cock stands proud, eager for attention. He wraps his hand around it, feeling the pulse of life, the promise of pleasure. He strokes, his grip firm, his rhythm steady, his breath coming in quick gasps. He pictures last night, the touch of another, the friction, the heat. His body tenses, his strokes become frantic, his moans fill the room as he spills over, marking his chest with his essence.

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