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In the quiet of his room, he begins his daily ritual, the soft rustle of sheets as he frees his throbbing member from its cotton prison. He takes his time, his hand exploring every contour, every vein, his thumb swirling around the sensitive head. His other hand reaches down, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently in their sack. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his hips bucking as he chases his peak, his body tensing as he spills over, his hot, sticky seed coating his hand and belly.