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The room is a symphony of sensation. The smooth, cool latex against his skin, the tight grip of his hand around his throbbing cock, the scent of his own musk filling the air. He's lost in his own world, his eyes closed, his mind's eye filled with fantasies. His strokes become more urgent, more insistent, his breath coming in short gasps. He can feel it building, the tension in his balls, the heat in his stomach. And then, it's upon him, a wave of pleasure crashing over him, his cock pulsing in his hand, his cum spurting out, painting his body, marking his territory in this private, latex-clad dance of solo ecstasy.