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In the quietude of his room, he strips bare, his body a canvas of taut muscle and smooth skin. His hand, a tool of exploration, traces the sensitive nerves of his inner thigh, making him shiver with anticipation. He takes his time, teasing, taunting, building the pressure within. His strokes are long, deliberate, each one a whisper of his longing. The room echoes with his ragged breaths, the sound of his pleasure a secret shared only with the four walls.