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A curious morning ritual unfolds as our FtM amateur takes a seat at the breakfast table, his curious eyes darting around the empty room. His hand ventures south, finding the warmth between his legs, stroking his smooth, sensitive pussy. He rubs gently, feeling the familiar tingle, his breath hitching as he works his boyish pussy, the tablecloth providing a subtle barrier from prying eyes. His moans mingle with the ticking clock, a symphony of his private, public pleasure.