San Diego native Larry Keen, in the comfort of his Hardplumber studio, treats his audience to an intimate solo session. Uninhibited, he strokes his throbbing length, his grip tight, rhythm steady. The room fills with the sound of his hand meeting flesh, punctuated by his ragged breaths. Larry's eyes flutter closed, lost in his own world, as he brings himself closer to the edge. His body tenses, muscles tightening, before he releases with a guttural groan, his hot seed spilling over his hand.