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In the quiet of his room, a man succumbs to his primal urges. His hand, a willing accomplice, wraps around his throbbing cock. He strokes, rhythmically, as if playing a forbidden symphony. His breath hitches, his hips buck, and he loses himself in the sensation. A bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip, a promise of the ecstasy to come. His grip tightens, his pace quickens, and with a guttural groan, he spills his seed, painting his abdomen with stripes of white.