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Locked in his bathroom, a man stands before the mirror, his reflection a study in contrasts. He's clean-shaven, his hair neatly combed, yet his eyes hold a primal hunger. He's naked, his body a testament to years of discipline and self-control, yet his hand wraps around his cock in a grip that's anything but gentle. He strokes, his movements fluid, his gaze locked on his reflection. His body tenses, his cock throbbing as he nears the edge. He leans forward, his breath fogging the mirror, a low growl escaping as he comes, his release coating the glass, a primal mark of his solitude.