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In the quiet of his apartment, a man, unnamed but familiar, finds himself alone with his thoughts and a full bladder. He strips down to his waist, the cool air of the room prickling his skin. He walks to the bathroom, his cock already semi-hard with anticipation. He doesn't need to use the toilet, not really. He wants to feel the warmth of his urine on his skin, to watch it arc and splash on the cold tile. He strokes his cock, feeling it grow harder, the sensation of his hand on his flesh mixed with the relief of his bladder emptying.