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Lost in the rhythm of his own touch, he pays homage to his cock, every caress a whispered prayer. His foreskin, a velvety shroud, slides back and forth, unveiling the engorged tip. The air is thick with the scent of pre-cum, a heady perfume that intoxicates him. His hips buck, his grip tightens, and with a final, guttural moan, he offers his devotion, his cum cascading like a divine benediction.