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The Italian god stands tall, his massive cock stretching towards the ceiling like a monument to his virility. He's a master of his domain, his strokes precise, his grip firm. His other hand wanders, teasing his balls, running up his abs, tweaking a nipple. His body is a canvas of tattoos, each one telling a story, each one begging to be traced with a tongue. His moans fill the room, deep and guttural, a symphony of carnal pleasure.