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A man, in the throes of carnal desire, takes matters into his own hands. His cock, throbbing with need, is his instrument, and his fist, his maestro. With each stroke, he conducts a symphony of sensation, his body responding in primal rhythm. His hips buck, his abs contract, and his breath hitches as he nears the crescendo. With a final, guttural groan, he reaches his climax, his cock pulsing as it coats his hand and stomach with his hot, sticky seed.