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In a private, tiled sanctuary, a man, unseen but felt, begins his ritual. No hands needed here, just the rhythm of his hips, thrusting against nothing but the air and the promise of release. Beads of sweat mingle with water droplets, tracing paths down his chiseled body. His breath hitches as he nears the edge, his cock pulsing, veins throbbing. With a guttural groan, he surrenders, painting the shower curtain with stripes of white, his body shuddering with the force of his hands-free orgasm.