The dark masturbation

The room was dim, lit only by the pale flicker of a screen casting shadows across his bare skin. Alone in the quiet, he lay back on the bed, his fingers drifting slowly down his stomach to wrap around himself with practiced ease. His breath deepened as he stroked, each motion drawing him further from the screen and deeper into his own fantasy — imagined touches, heat, pressure, mouths that weren’t really there. The rhythm grew more urgent, moans slipping from his lips as tension coiled tighter inside him, until his body arched and release took him with a shuddering gasp. In the silence that followed, he lay still, skin warm and tingling, caught in the echo of a pleasure that belonged only to him.