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With a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, the young man steps onto the weathered deck, the scent of pine and saltwater filling his nostrils. He sheds the towel, allowing the crisp air to dance across his naked body. His hands, calloused from years of manual labor, wrap around his stiffening cock, pulling and pumping with a familiar rhythm. The slap of skin against skin echoes through the quiet afternoon, punctuated only by his ragged breaths, until a nearby rustle signals an intruder, cutting his session short.