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In the soft glow of morning light, a lone figure stretches languidly, his attention drawn to the stirring below his waist. A smirk plays on his lips as he wraps a strong hand around his substantial morning wood. With a slow, steady rhythm, he strokes his length, his breath hitching as pleasure courses through him. The room fills with the sounds of his hand meeting flesh, the occasional grunt of satisfaction escaping his lips. His body tenses, muscles taut as he nears his release, the first tendrils of ecstasy washing over him.