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In a dimly lit room, an Italian Adonis stands tall, his body a canvas of toned muscles and olive skin. His hand, rough and calloused from years of work, grips his massive, veiny cock with a familiarity that borders on reverence. He strokes, his grip tight, his rhythm steady, his eyes closed in concentration. The room echoes with the sound of his hand meeting his flesh, the slick noise of pre-cum lubricating his path. His other hand reaches down, cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently as he nears his climax, his body tensing, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.