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In the quietude of his room, a man, bored by the mundane, finds solace in the throes of self-pleasure. His hand traces the length of his considerable endowment, already stiff with anticipation. The room fills with the rhythm of his strokes, the wet sounds of his palm gliding along his veined shaft. His breath hitches as he nears the edge, his body tensing, before finally releasing in a hot, sticky surge.