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In the quiet of the early morning, a lone figure stretches languidly in bed, the first light of dawn casting a soft glow on their naked form. With a sigh, they reach down, fingers tracing the growing bulge at their crotch. Their hand wraps around their length, stroking slowly, building a rhythm that matches the steady beat of their heart. They arch into their touch, their other hand cupping their balls, rolling them gently. Their breath hitches as they pick up the pace, their body tensing, muscles clenching as they chase their release. A low groan escapes their lips as they spill over, their seed coating their hand and stomach.