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Under the open sky, a lone figure, his hair damp from the drizzle, stands with his back to the wall of an abandoned building. His eyes, heavy-lidded and glazed, watch the gathering storm as his hand, tucked discreetly into his unbuttoned jeans, works his cock with practiced ease. His denim-clad legs are spread wide, offering a clear view of his hand's steady motion. The wind picks up, blowing his long hair around his face, but he remains undeterred, chasing his release with a single-minded focus. His breath comes in short gasps, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With a soft moan, he spills over, his cum mingling with the rainwater on the ground, a secret only the storm knows.