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In a cramped, dimly lit room, a skinny, pale European boy stands, his breath fogging the mirror. His eyes are locked on his reflection, watching as his hand wraps around his enormous cock. He's a connoisseur of his own body, knowing just how to touch, how to tease. His strokes are slow, deliberate, his hips moving in a rhythm as old as time. His breath hitches as he nears the edge, his grip tightening, his strokes quickening. With a final groan, he tips over the precipice, his cum splattering onto the cold, hard floor.