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Soloman, a seasoned, mature man, finds himself in a state of perpetual exhaustion, his once-proud member now a shriveled, tired shadow of its former self. In the stark, clinical light of his lonely apartment, he sits on the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped around his small, tired dick, stroking it mechanically, his mind elsewhere. The room is filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of his hand moving up and down his shaft, the scent of old cologne and desperation hanging heavy in the air.