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In the quiet of the early morning, a man's hand moves with purpose, his grip firm yet gentle as he works his rigid, uncut cock. The room is dim, the only light filtering in from the crack in the curtains, casting a soft glow on his chiseled physique. His hand moves faster, his breathing becoming heavier, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With a final, deliberate stroke, he groans, his cock pulsing as it releases a thick, creamy load onto his stomach, leaving him panting and spent, ready to face the day.