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His cock, hard and aching, throbs in time with the beat of the music. He strips off his jeans, revealing his pulsating meat, veined and leaking. His hand, slick with pre-cum, glides up and down his shaft, his grip tight. He talks dirty to himself, his voice ragged with need. 'You wanna cum, don't you? Not yet, not until I say so.' He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the end glowing orange, his eyes never leaving his cock, his hand never still.