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The sun barely peeks through the curtains as our Latin stud stretches, his morning wood tents his boxers. With a wicked grin, he wraps his hand around his thick shaft, giving it a firm stroke. He leans back, his muscular body tensing as he picks up the pace, his hand a blur. His breath hitches, and with a guttural groan, he spills his load, his abs contracting with each pulse.