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In the privacy of his boudoir, he slips into a pair of emerald panties, the cool silk contrasting with the warmth of his skin. His hand wanders, tracing the curve of his ass, the fabric growing taut against his growing hardness. He strokes himself, the panties now a damp second skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he chases his climax, the green fabric a flag of his solo triumph.