The Mallu man, a Kazhappan by birth, stands tall and proud, his Kunna cock a thing of awe. He grasps his thick, uncut meat, the weight of it heavy in his hand. He begins to stroke, his grip tight, his pace steady. His cock swells, the veins pulsing with life, as he works himself into a frenzy. His grunts grow louder, his strokes faster, until finally, with a guttural roar, he spills his load, thick ropes of cum painting the room with his passion.