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As the sun creeps in, so does the itch to touch himself. He's alone, his bed a private arena for his kink. He starts slow, a teasing grip on his thick shaft, feeling every ridge, every pulse. He picks up speed, his hand a blur, his breath ragged. He's close, his body tensing, his toes curling. With a final stroke, he comes undone, his release painting his body, a masterpiece of self-pleasure.