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The stud's cannon is a sight to behold, a thick, veiny monster that seems to grow even larger in his strong, calloused hand. He works it expertly, his grip tight and steady, his rhythm increasing as he approaches the edge. The room is filled with the wet, slapping sound of flesh on flesh, the scent of musk and sweat hanging heavy in the air. As he reaches his peak, he lets out a guttural roar, and his cock pulses, sending streams of hot, white cum arcing through the air, leaving a messy, sticky trail across the room.