My mind and body fragmented from each other. I grew lightheaded as all existence focused on my dick. I shook uncontrollably and bit the pillow as plea...ure exploded from my dick, emptying me of everything else.My mind rejoined my body, and I gasped for breath. As the pressure inside me eased, I turned over. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.I did not have the knowledge to name what had happened, so called it 'The Itch'.It became a part of my bedtime routine. I repeated the same steps every night. They both were wearing yoga pants and sports bras and had theirhair up in ponies. Morgan was quietly talking to Denise. "Tell meagain what we're doing here."Denise fidgeted, tossed her hair in frustration, and wiped a tear fromher eye. "I have to cancel out my old life slowly to not cause anyripples in the structure of the universe," she repeated uninterested asshe started checking out some of the hot guys that just walked in.The night before Denise had a wild sex orgy with her friend Tim. Barbara’s pale blue nightie was so sheer he could see there was no bra strap but she was wearing panties, the same shade of light blue. He took her by the shoulder and turned her toward him. Barbara’s eyes opened as he kissed her and moved his hand to her breast. As I watched her nipple got hard. He tweaked it between his thumb and forefinger. His cock was now full and hard and pressing against Barbara’s leg. She shook her head away from his mouth. "Stop!" she teased, "We can't do this! It's. I supervised the remodeling of my condo to my tastes. I made acquaintances and chatted. I made friends with one of my neighbors. Bill Bronkowski was his name. He was in his forties, and he was a confirmed bachelor. He had lots of advice. So why do you say am I not like all the other divorced men? You know the drill: Every other weekend taking the kids to the park, with the kids to the movies, keeping them on the weekend, and then rushing them home on Sunday. The simple fact is: I don’t have.
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