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The office is a cathedral of silence, interrupted only by the ragged, lust-filled breaths of a man consumed by his desires. His cock, a tower of flesh and veins, tents his pants, begging for freedom. He obliges, wrapping his calloused hand around the throbbing shaft. The sound of his hand moving along his length fills the room, a symphony of raw, animalistic need. His body tenses, every muscle taut as a bowstring, as he nears the edge. With a final, guttural moan, he falls over it, his cock pulsing as it paints the desk with streak after streak of hot, sticky cum, a testament to the volcanic power of his desire.