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In the heart of the city, a muscular, uncut stud finds an isolated stream, his target: a public piss. He unzips, releasing a torrent of golden nectar, the scent wafting in the crisp air. As he shakes the last drops, he cups his heavy balls, feeling their weight. He starts rubbing, his large hand moving in slow circles, the slapping sound echoing. His strokes quicken, his breath hitching, until he groans, his body tensing as he releases.