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On a deserted train platform, a man in a worn-out jacket paces, his eyes darting nervously. He's not waiting for a train; he's waiting for the thrill. He slips a hand into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around his hardening cock. He leans against a pillar, his body tensing as he strokes himself roughly, the cool night air contrasting with the heat of his body. The distant sound of a train whistle only serves to heighten his arousal, and he comes undone, his body shuddering as he spills into his hand.