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In the quiet of his space, he finds his escape. His hand, a steady companion, glides up and down his rigid length. The room echoes with the symphony of his pleasure, each stroke a testament to his building desire. His body arches, his breath hitches, as he approaches the precipice. With a final, desperate stroke, he tumbles over the edge, his body convulsing as he coats his hand and stomach with his pent-up essence.