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As the clock strikes twelve, a lonely man takes matters into his own hands, literally. His calloused palm grips his engorged member, pumping furiously. The dim moonlight casts a shadow, highlighting every vein as it throbs with anticipation. The pace intensifies, his breath hitches, and with a guttural groan, he erupts, his massive load arcing through the air, painting the room with his pent-up desire.