A single ray of sunlight pierces the gloom, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. The boy, his body glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, is a solitary figure of lust. His hand moves with a rhythm as old as time, his grip firm, his pace steady. His mind is a whirlwind of illicit thoughts, each one pushing him closer to the edge. With a final, desperate thrust, he finds his release, his body convulsing as he paints the room with his essence.