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In the soft, dappled light of dawn, a lone figure stirs, his morning wood tenting the sheets. He tentatively touches himself, his large, throbbing member aching for release. With a groan, he wraps his massive hand around it, stroking slowly, eyes closed in concentration. His breath deepens as he imagines the touch of another, his pace quickening, his grip tightening. The room fills with the wet, rhythmic sound of his self-pleasure, his moans echoing off the walls as he approaches his climax.