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In the quiet of his room, a man finds solace in the simple, intimate act of stroking his cock. His calloused hands trace the familiar path, from the base to the tip, a rhythm he's known since adolescence. The room fills with the sound of his steady breathing, matching the pace of his strokes. His body tenses, muscles contracting as he nears the edge, before finally, with a low groan, he finds his release, painting his stomach with warm, white stripes.