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In the throes of his vacation, Mr. Propee seeks solace in his own company, stripping down to nothing but his thoughts and a bottle of lube. He strokes his rigid cock with a fervor born of isolation, his hand a blur as it travels the length of his shaft. The room fills with his grunts and groans, a symphony of self-pleasure that crescendos in a explosive cumshot, his seed painting the room in his private, vacation ecstasy.