But no matter how close it was in size, there was no simulating the warmth or power of Ben's real dick. And more importantly, there was no simulating ...he feel of his body flush with sweat on top of me, or the intense gaze of his eyes as he looked at me in adoration."That sounded like a good one," Ben's voice sounded off in my ears.I tilted the microphone back to my mouth and tried to put on a happy smile, knowing it would carry in my own voice. "Yeah..." I said brightly. I didn't need to let. She was in her early 40s,too. I found much older women turned me on more. Ifucked her most Saturdays. Then she had taken the principal aside one day andtold her what a great fuck I was. She was in her mid-50s but didn’t look old. She had long dark hair [whichwas always up] with some gray in it and wore glasses[which I found sexier]. She was over 6 feet tall, usedto play basketball in college [I saw her photos andtrophies]. She got pregnant, later married and had afew more children. She. Minnow at an Emmy presentation. M*A*S*H units lined my favorite place in the world, Central Park, but thankfully without Alan Alda. The bombardment of depressing pandemic news reports had placed my Xanax supply in serious jeopardy. But not my weed, thankfully. I'm not a barbarian.Equally as depressing my sex drive had vanished like eggs from grocery shelves. The strict but necessary social distancing guidelines made personal interaction as difficult as the Sunday Times crossword. That left my. Crash and burn was. And then he could pick up the pieces. Start over again.That was his only perceived option. Crash and burn. His head bowed to the steering wheel, "Crash and burn!" he sighed to himself.His mistake this time was to let his son's birthday go by without a present or even a card. Being a guy, those events seem to slip by unnoticed. Not remembered. Couldn't be remembered.Guys are just not good with appointments, meetings, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays or anything that had a.