Solitary Ecstasy: A Boy's Private Dance

The room is bathed in a soft, warm glow, casting dramatic shadows that dance with the young man's movements. He's a sculptor, and his body is the clay. His hands, his tools, carve out every curve, every line, every valley. He's a master of his craft, a connoisseur of his own flesh. His cock stands proud, a testament to his desire. He strokes it, teases it, brings it to the brink, then pulls back, drawing out the symphony of his pleasure. He's a soloist, playing to an empty house, and he's the best audience he could ever have.

• soloboy

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