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Alone in his room, a man's hand explores his body, tracing the contours of his chest, lingering on his nipples, before descending to the prize. His cock stands rigid, yearning for touch. He wraps his hand around it, feeling the heat, the pulse, as he begins to stroke. His grip is firm, his pace steady, a rhythm born of practice and desire. His other hand joins in, cupping his balls, rolling them gently, adding another layer to the sensation. His moans fill the room, the air thick with the scent of sex, as he races towards climax.