In the throes of his obsession, Randy Prozac's hand flies over his thick cock, the sound of wet flesh slapping filling the room. His breath comes in ragged gasps, the smell of his own musk driving him wild. As his release nears, his strokes become frantic, his grip tightening. With a final, guttural moan, he comes, his cum splattering across his face, dripping down his chin, coating his lips in a salty, sticky reminder of his unbridled desire.