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In the quiet of his room, he unzips, his massive, uncut BBC springing free, eager for attention. He strokes it, his hand a tight fist around its thickness, feeling every inch pulse with life. His eyes flutter closed, imagining the touch of a lover, his hand moving faster, harder. He lets his foreskin ride over the head, feeling the sensitive skin stretch and retract. His moans fill the room, a symphony of his desire. He can feel it building, his balls tightening, and with a final, powerful stroke, he comes, his hot, sticky load erupting, coating his hand and cock, a mess he'll clean up later, with a satisfied smile.