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The room pulsates with the rhythm of his heart, his anticipation building like the crescendo of a symphony. He's a master of his craft, building tension, delaying gratification. He runs his hands over his body, tracing the contours of his muscles, before finally, agonizingly, slipping his hand into his boxers. The gasp that escapes him as his fingers wrap around his monstrous cock is audible, primal. He's unleashing the beast, and it's a sight to behold.