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In the quiet of the morning, a young skater boy, fresh-faced and eager, wakes up to the familiar ache in his loins. His white socks, still pristine from the night before, cover his feet as he sits up in bed, his hand instinctively going to his crotch. He's a European college jock, his body lean and toned from years of skating and working out. His cock tents his boxers, and he can't help but give it a squeeze, a shiver of pleasure coursing through him. He kicks off his sneakers, the thud echoing in the silent room, and pulls off his socks, his bare feet now cold on the wooden floor. He strokes his cock, his movements slow and deliberate, his mind filled with fantasies of other boys, of their hands, their mouths, their bodies.