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With a desperate hunger, he tears open his pants, his engorged cock springing free. The room is his temple, his body the altar, and he worships at it with fervent abandon. His fingers trace the length of his shaft, feeling every vein, every ridge. Pre-cum glistens at the tip, a testament to his arousal. He pumps harder, faster, the room echoing with his ragged breaths and the wet sounds of his pleasure. His body tenses, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to release. And then, with a roar, he does, painting his chest with his climax, a testament to his uninhibited indulgence.