There's only the sexual drive left, and for someone of my nature, that isn't enough. There's no true chemistry, no true sense of connection of mind as...well as the body. Only fulfilling your low-level instincts.Thinking over that, I had snuck inside an abandoned railway workshop just between the bus depot and a train station, almost literally crammed in between. A dark, crumbling, deserted place, with all the tools and material gone, only a space covered in dust and small debris. A place like. I notice the tip flopping around as I started to softly stroke on it. Finally the ridge was as hard as ever, and the skin stretched tightly over ever inch. Slowing the stroke, and with some squeezing I managed to produce a few drops from the tip. Which I quickly used to slickin up my hand. Taking my finger tips, and rubbing it all over the length of me before I went back to gripping myself. I watched as the drops came more frequently now. Over the rim, and down through my fingers as I. More

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