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In the sterile, echoing confines of a public locker room, a lone, hulking figure sheds his clothes, his body a canvas of sinew and ink. His cock, substantial and uncut, swings heavily between his legs as he begins to pleasure himself, the wet, slick sounds of his grip filling the void. The room, meant for communal use, becomes his private playground, the steam from his shower still lingering in the air, mingling with the musk of his arousal.