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In the dimly lit room, our lone wolf takes center stage, his hand the only prop he needs. He begins with a gentle touch, his fingers tracing the outline of his hardening cock. He teases, he strokes, he builds a steady pace that has him panting. The room fills with the sound of skin on skin, the scent of sex heavy in the air. His grip tightens, his strokes become more urgent, and with a low groan, he finds his release. Thick ropes of cum paint his chest, dripping down to his navel. He looks down at the mess he's made, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he spreads the warm, sticky fluid across his skin, marking himself as thoroughly satisfied.