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In the hushed comfort of his room, a man begins his ritual, a bottle of lotion and a towel his only companions. He starts slowly, his hand gliding over his cock with practiced ease, feeling the blood rush to his groin. The lotion provides a slippery, almost decadent sensation as he increases his pace, edges of ecstasy teasing him, but he's a master at this. He knows his body's limits, pushing them just enough before backing off, prolonging the pleasure. His breath hitches as he nears the precipice, but he pulls back, his body trembling with anticipation. He repeats this dance, a solo ballet of self-control, until finally, he can't hold back any longer. With a guttural moan, he allows himself to tumble over the edge, his body convulsing as he paints the towel with his release.