White streams paint his taut torso

In the quiet of his room, he applies lotion, his hands lingering on his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. His touch becomes more intimate, migrating south, wrapping around his hardening cock. He jerks off, his movements slow and deliberate, the room silent save for the sound of his hand meeting his flesh. His body tenses, and with a final stroke, he comes, his cock pulsing as he paints his chest with his seed.

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