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The house is quiet, save for the soft rustling of sheets as he stretches, his morning wood tenting the covers. She's gone, off to her daily grind, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his throbbing desire. He lets his imagination run wild, picturing her hands, her mouth, her warm, wet pussy. He reaches down, wrapping his large hand around his shaft, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat. He teases himself, running his thumb over the sensitive head, before giving in to the urge to stroke, his grip tight, his pace steady, until he's gasping, his body tensing as he spills his load onto his stomach.