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In the privacy of the bathroom, a man stands naked under the pounding water, his cock already hard and eager. He takes it in his hand, the sensation of his own grip sending shivers down his spine. He strokes, long and slow, building a rhythm that matches the beat of the water against the tiles. His mind wanders, imagining hands other than his own, lips wrapped around him, hot breath on his skin. His grip tightens, his strokes quicken, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With a groan, he comes, his cum mixing with the water, washing away down the drain.