The Lonely Curve's Rhythm

Lost in his thoughts, a lonely man finds solace in his own touch. He tentatively strokes his rigid length, exploring the sensitive skin, the veins throbbing with desire. His grip tightens, rhythm quickening as he imagines a lover's touch. The room fills with his ragged breaths and the wet sounds of his hand working his eager cock. He edges closer, the tension coiling in his core, until finally, with a guttural groan, he spills his load, painting his chest with sticky ropes of cum.

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