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Gingerboy finds solace in the familiar rhythm of his hand against his rigid cock. The room is filled with the sounds of his pleasure, the slapping of flesh against flesh, and his ragged breaths. His eyes flutter closed, imagining the touch of another, the sensation of a warm, wet mouth enveloping him. He groans, his body convulsing as he paints his abdomen with streaks of white, his grip still firm around his pulsing shaft. Exhausted and sated, he collapses back, a satisfied grin gracing his lips.