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As the sun peeks through the window, a lone ebony figure stirs, his morning wood tenting the sheets. With a groan, he wraps his hand around his thick, uncut shaft, the feel of his own skin sending shivers down his spine. His strokes are slow and deliberate, building a rhythm that matches his heartbeat. The room fills with the sound of his hand meeting his flesh, the scent of his pre-cum wafting in the air. His breath hitches as he feels the familiar tingle, his grip tightening as he races towards his release. With a final grunt, he spills his load, his cum painting stripes on his abs.