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In the hush of the night, a blue-satin-clad Viking rises, his mammoth cock tenting the silky fabric. The cool air and the moon's caress awaken his primal lust. He steps outside, his heavy boots crunching the forest floor, the echo of his ragged breaths filling the void. His calloused hand wraps around his girth, stroking with a desperation born of centuries of unquenched Viking hunger. The forest watches, silent and still, as he worships his own flesh, seeking solace in the sweet agony of his own touch.