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The zip of the tent closes him off from the world, leaving only the sounds of nature and his own ragged breathing. He's alone, but his mind races with filthy thoughts. He kicks off his boots, unbuttons his jeans, and lets his monster cock spring free, already leaking pre-cum. He wraps his fist around it, feeling the slickness, and begins to pump, his grip tight and steady. The tent fills with the scent of his musk, the sound of his grunts and the wet slap of his cock meeting his hand. His balls tighten, and he knows he's close. He reaches for a tissue, but it's too late. His cum shoots out, hot and thick, coating his hand and dripping onto the tent floor, marking his territory in the most primal way.