Nightcap of Nectar

In the hush of midnight, a man's solo dance begins. His hand wraps around his stiffening cock, the rhythm of his strokes echoing in the quiet. He pauses, his body coiling like a spring, then lets go, a torrent of piss streaming forth, painting the porcelain with its golden hue. He leans in, inhaling the sharp, musky scent, his other hand cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently as the last drops fall.

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