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With a heavy sigh, he wraps his left hand around his throbbing cock, lost in his own world of depression. His grip is firm, desperate, as he begins to stroke. The room is filled with the sound of his labored breathing and the soft, rhythmic slapping of his hand against his flesh. His eyes are closed, his mind elsewhere, as he chases his own pleasure. His body is tense, his muscles taut, as he nears his climax. With a final, shuddering gasp, he finds his release, his seed spilling over his hand, a temporary escape from his inner turmoil.