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The ticking clock echoes in the silent kitchen as the man, his day's work done, succumbs to primal urges. His calloused hand grips his throbbing cock, tugging it roughly through the thin material of his pants. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through him, his imagination fueling his desire. He envisions a stranger's mouth, a colleague's touch, anything to push him over the edge. With a final, shuddering groan, he comes undone, his cum seeping through the fabric, a secret stain to hide from the world until his next solo session.