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Lost in his fetish, he dons the sailor suit, the crisp pleats and crisp white collar a stark contrast to the lewd act about to unfold. His hands trace the curves of his body, feeling the fabric's texture, imagining the touch of a lover. His cock, rock hard and leaking, begs for release. He strokes it fiercely, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the room. The tension builds, his body tensing, and with a guttural moan, he comes, his hot seed escaping, staining the pristine uniform. But the uniform is just a vessel for his lust, and he knows he'll do it all again tomorrow.