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Under the cloak of night, a man's nipples, taut and sensitive, become the focus of his clandestine pleasure. He teases them through his thin shirt, the fabric rubbing against the hardened nubs, his breath quickening as he fights to suppress his eager gasps. His hand strays lower, fingers finding their rhythm, his body tensing as he nears the edge, the room echoing with his whispered encouragements, a symphony of secret desire.