Lazaro, a teen on the brink of manhood, finds solace in the private dance of self-pleasure. In the dim light of his room, he strips down, his cock already half-hard, eager for his touch. He wraps his hand around it, feeling the heat, the pulse. His strokes are steady, purposeful, his hips lifting off the bed in time with his movements. He pictures the girl he's been crushing on, her smile, her laugh, her body. His breath comes faster, his strokes more urgent. He can feel it building, that familiar pressure, and with a groan, he comes, his cock pulsing as he paints his stomach with his release.