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In the soft glow of his bedside lamp, he begins his nightly ritual. The rustle of fabric as he discards his clothes, the feel of cool air on his heated skin, the first tentative touches igniting a fire within. His eyes flutter closed, lost in a fantasy, as his hand works diligently, bringing him to the brink. The room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths, the slick sound of flesh on flesh, until he's pushed over the edge, a guttural groan escaping him as he paints his chest with his desire.