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In the quiet of the afternoon, a man finds his solace in the touch of his own hand. His room, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, becomes his sanctuary as he begins to pleasure himself. His cock, already hard and leaking, rests in his palm, his fingers tracing the sensitive underside. The sound of his hand moving over his flesh fills the room, a steady rhythm that quickens as his desire builds. His free hand reaches down to caress his sac, feeling the weight of his balls, heavy with need. With a final, desperate stroke, he comes undone, his hot, sticky cum spilling over his hand and onto the floor, a testament to his afternoon indulgence.