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The room is filled with the scent of clean laundry and the sound of a zipper lowering. Our well-endowed stranger stands, his broad shoulders filling the frame, his hand wrapping around his thick, veiny shaft. His strokes are steady, purposeful, each one causing his cock to grow harder, more insistent. He teases his sensitive head, running his thumb over the slit, collecting the beads of pre-cum that form. His breath hitches as he continues, his abdominals flexing with each movement. With a final, powerful grip, he comes undone, his cum painting his stomach in thick, white streaks.