Solitude Stirs: Boy's Loneliness Ignites Self-Pleasure

The clock ticks, each second a torment to his resolve. He's meant to be practicing, but his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the ache between his legs. His hands tremble as he unzips, freeing his throbbing length. He strokes, his pace frantic, the dance forgotten. He's a wild thing, a creature of primal need, his body betraying his control. He's MaunoMau's boy, and tonight, he's a symphony of solo passion.

• soloboy
• prep

• Unknown