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The zipper on his cargo pants echoes his racing heart as he unceremoniously yanks it down, freeing his engorged member. His hands, rough from years of manual labor, wrap around his thick, pulsating shaft. He begins to stroke, each movement deliberate and hungry. His eyes roll back, lost in the sensation of his own touch. His pace quickens, his breath hitching as he feels the familiar build-up. He groans, a deep, guttural sound, as he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing as he covers his hand and pants with his hot, sticky release.