Stroke of Solitude: A Hotel Encounter

A stranger in a strange land, he checks into the hotel, the neon lights casting a lurid glow through the window. The room, a haven for countless trysts, bears witness to his solitary dance of desire. He sheds his clothes, the fabric pooling at his feet, and climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand, a steady metronome, works his cock, the veins standing out in stark relief. The scent of sweat and pre-cum fills the air as he chases his release, the headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.

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