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In the dim light of dawn, an anonymous man begins his third edging session, the clock ticking at 6:30 AM. He's alone, the room filled with anticipation and the scent of his own musk. His big cock tents the fabric of his pants, a telltale wet spot forming from the precum already leaking. He strokes himself through the material, teasing, delaying the gratification he craves. His eyes flicker closed, lost in the fantasy that drives him to the brink, only to pull back, denying himself release. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his body tense with the effort to hold back.