Incestuous Wanker's Lullaby

In the dimly lit room, a lonely figure sits, his mind wandering to forbidden places. His hand, strong and sure, strokes his hardening cock, the familiar rhythm soothing his troubled mind. His eyes flutter closed, imagining the touch of another, the scent of another's skin. He groans, his breath hitching as he brings himself closer to the edge. His body tenses, his grip tightening as he spurts his load, the relief temporary, the guilt ever-present.

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