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Clad in damp, clinging boxers, he begins his self-imposed torment, peering at his crotch, watching the outline of his rigid cock grow and shift. His pants, once loose, now cling to his thighs, the front darkened by his arousal. He circles his hips, grinding against thin air, his body aching for release. Yet, hands remain firmly at his sides, a self-enforced denial that leaves him panting, his chest heaving, as he struggles to maintain control, his eyes locked onto the forbidden prize.