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In the dimly lit room, he stands, his body tense with anticipation. A gleam in his eyes, he pulls down his shorts, revealing his hardening cock. He strokes it, feeling the familiar sensation of his own hand. As he builds up, his breath hitches, and with a final stroke, he lets go. A steady stream of warm, golden liquid fills his cup, the sound of it echoing in the silent room. He watches, entranced, as it reaches the brim, then, with a smirk, he lifts it to his lips and drinks, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste.