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In a dimly lit room, a European mature man, his body a map of time and experience, sits on a worn-out chair. His hand, calloused from years of labor, reaches for his crotch, massaging the bulge there. He unzips his jeans, his thick, uncut cock springing free, the head glistening with pre-cum. He spits into his palm, lubing up his shaft, and begins to stroke, his grip tight. His other hand cups his heavy balls, rolling them gently. His eyes flutter closed, lost in the sensation, his strokes becoming faster, more urgent. His body tenses, his abs clenching as he comes, his cock pulsing as he paints his t-shirt with his cum.