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A hairy, muscular bear named Zolee finds himself in a seedy hotel room, his eyes drawn to the grimy toilet seat. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he drops to his knees, running a thick, calloused hand over the stained porcelain. The room is filled with the scent of his own musk and the faint, underlying tang of urine. Zolee's tongue, a rough, pink expanse, flicks out, licking the seat with a lewd, eager glint in his eye. He moans, the sound echoing in the empty room, as he savors the forbidden taste, his hard, uncut cock straining against his jeans.