In the heart of a bustling city, a cyclist in form-fitting bib shorts pauses by a quiet alley, his breath fogging in the cool air. His hand snakes into his shorts, wrapping around his circumcised cock. He strokes slowly, building a rhythm, his gloved hands contrasting with his bare skin. His eyes dart around, the thrill of exhibitionism coursing through him. His pace quickens, his breath hitches, and with a final stroke, he catches his load in his mouth, swallowing every drop.