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As the moon casts its silvery gaze into the room, a lone figure begins their nightly ritual. Their hands explore their body, tracing the curves and valleys, pausing to tease and taunt their hardening cock. They stroke themselves, their grip firm and steady, their movements practiced and purposeful. The room grows hotter, their breath coming in short gasps, their heart pounding in their chest. They can feel it building, the pressure coiling in their belly, their balls drawing up tight. With a final, desperate stroke, they come undone, their cock pulsing as they unleash a torrent of cum, painting their skin with their essence.