Over the last few years I've noticed that it typically takes me longer to find something I fancy having a wank to than it does to actually complete the task itself. Not that I rely on visual stimuli, of course, but the profusion and availability of internet porn does offer a tempting jubilee of genitalia, a festival of flange, a carnival of cock, if you will, to the eager onanist; ready for those moments when the time is right, the hands are warm, and the mood is highly charged. Such times have been more readily available to me over the last 6 years of singledom, and would be even more so during the current lockdown were I not quarantining with my eldest child. As anyone who shares accommodation and fancies a little self-pleasure knows, the most sensitive organ of the body when masturbating is your ears. And headphones really aren't recommended. So while circumstance or broadband outage might require a withdrawal from the dusty vaults of the wank bank, in order to make ...
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