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A man, alone in his domain, gives in to his primal urges. He sits on the edge of his bed, his cock standing proud and ready. He spits into his palm, the slick sound echoing in the silent room. His hand wraps around his thickness, and he begins to stroke, his grip tight and steady. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensation. He imagines a lover's touch, her soft hands, her warm mouth. His strokes become more frenzied, his breath ragged. He feels the familiar tingle at the base of his spine, and with a final, desperate stroke, he comes, his cock pulsing, his release spilling over his fingers and onto the floor.