Russo's alarm blares, jolting him awake. Still groggy, he stumbles to his bedroom, his morning wood tenting his pajama pants. He kicks off his pants, his thick cock springing free, already leaking. He wraps a firm hand around it, his grip tight and steady. His strokes gain speed, his breathing becoming ragged. The room fills with the sound of his hand slapping against his skin, the smell of his musk. He lets out a guttural moan as he comes, his cock pulsing, his cum dripping onto the floor.