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In the quiet of the garage, a man stands, his cock hard, balls full, the silence broken only by the distant hum of traffic. He's alone, but the thrill of potential discovery courses through him. He unzips, his thick, veiny cock springing free, balls swinging heavily. He strokes, feeling the cool garage air against his hot skin. His piss builds, a primal urge he can't resist. He turns, facing the wall, the exit in view, and lets go, the warm liquid spraying, splashing onto the concrete, the sound echoing in the empty space. He turns back, looking at the wet stain, his cock still hard, his balls drained but eager for more.