Solitude's Sweet Sin

In the dim light of his room, he stands naked, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. He takes his length in his hand, his thumb circling the sensitive head, feeling the heat, the pulsing need. He begins to stroke, slowly at first, then faster, his hips moving in rhythm with his hand. His eyes are closed, his mind lost in a world of sensation, his body tensing as he approaches the edge. With a low groan, he tips over, his seed streaming onto the floor, a testament to his solo indulgence.

• soloboy

• Unknown