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In the quiet of his room, he surrenders to the primal urge. His hand, a blur of motion, works his rigid length, the friction igniting his senses. He leans back, eyes closed, lost in the sensation. His breath comes in ragged gasps, each one pushing him closer to the edge. The room is filled with the sound of his pleasure, a symphony of grunts and moans, as he races towards the climax he so desperately seeks.