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In a dimly lit room, a rugged, muscular man stands, his body a landscape of tattoos and sweat. His hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, wraps around his substantial cock, giving it a firm, slow stroke. His other hand explores his body, tweaking his nipples, tracing the lines of his abs, sending shivers of pleasure through him. His strokes become more urgent, his grip tighter, his breathing heavier. The sound of his hand slapping against his flesh fills the room, the wet, sticky sound of his pre-cum lubricating his strokes. His body tenses, his abs clenching, his thighs tensing, as he nears the edge. With a guttural growl, he comes, his cock pulsing as hot, white cum shoots out, coating his hand and his abs. He stands there for a moment, spent and satisfied, before cleaning up and disappearing into the shadows.