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The crisp air nips at his skin, yet his cock stands proudly, unencumbered by the kilt's loose fit. The jogger, oblivious to the lustful gazes he inspires, continues his run, his cock swaying heavily, a tantalizing glimpse of uncut flesh peeking out with each step. The sight is a symphony of raw, carnal desire, a testament to the power of fabric and flesh, and the allure of the unexpected.