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In the quiet of his room, a man lost in thought, "Pensando en vos," finds solace in the rhythm of his hand. His fingers trace the length of his hardening cock, a slow, steady beat that builds with each touch. The room fills with soft grunts and the sound of skin on skin as he picks up the pace, his breath hitching in his throat. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the fantasy only he can see, his hand working furiously until he's brought to the brink. With a final, shuddering gasp, he spills over, his release painting the room with his desire.