A Solitary Night, My Hand and I

In the quiet of his room, he strips bare, his cock already hard and ready. He runs a hand over the length, feeling the velvety smoothness of the skin. He closes his eyes, letting his imagination run wild. His hand moves faster, tighter, mimicking the feel of a mouth, a pussy. He grunts, his body tensing as he nears the edge. With a final, hard stroke, he comes, his cock pulsing as he spills his seed onto the floor, a testament to his solo pleasure.

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