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The tiled walls of the Toualeta echo with the stranger's ragged breaths, his large, uncut cock standing at attention in the harsh, unforgiving light. He runs his hands over the length, feeling the pulse of life, before spitting into his palm and wrapping his fist around the shaft. With a steady, firm grip, he jerks himself, the sound of wet skin slapping against skin filling the small room. His body tenses, back arching, as he chases his climax, the sight of his own hand working his massive cock pushing him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he comes, ropes of cum painting the cold, unyielding surface before him.