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Lost in his thoughts, he begins to touch himself, his fingers dancing over his sensitive skin. His breath hitches as he wraps his hand around his rigid length, feeling the heat and pulse of his desire. His strokes are steady, building a rhythm that matches the pounding of his heart. The room fills with the sound of his pleasure, the wet slap of skin on skin, the ragged moans that escape his lips as he chases his climax. His body tenses, his abs clenching as he spills over, his release coating his hand and dripping onto the floor, a messy, satisfying conclusion to his private performance.