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Kontakt takes the stage alone, his eyes gleaming with a hungry intensity. He starts slow, teasing his cock with firm strokes, but it's not long before he's lost in the rhythm, fucking his fist with wild abandon. His body moves with a primal urgency, his hips bucking forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The room fills with the sound of his pleasure, a symphony of moans and the slick, wet sound of his hand working his cock.