Her approachability is nearly a curse to her, a curse to you. She gets up to get drinks for the table and you can’t help but notice the guy who is t...lking to her at the bar. She is laughing at everything he says and playing with her hair, putting her hand on his chest. The familiar sense of despair falls over you as you feel another resolution going unfulfilled. This isn’t new, you half expected it, you don’t want to think it but the voice in the back of your head laughs at you for expecting. What I found shocked me in wondering what happened to me during my sleep, and why a strange metallic device was attached to my balls and cock. As I reached down to touch the head of my cock, it felt as if my six inch cock was no longer attached to my body. I felt nothing. My sack, which is hairless and has nuts of average size, was tight as my nuts tried to pull close to my body. What in the fuck happened while I was asleep? What did I do to piss off my lover? All I knew was that I had to piss. Being a widower I have choice of sitting at home or being proactive and finding a woman to have fun and fuck. I know if I do not use my big cock for fucking now maybe in few years’ time my cock will only be good for pissing. Since then I have remained quite active and attend my social business and golf clubs. My daughter and son are living and working away and are busy with their own families. My son is now in UK soon, and my daughter is married and Texas USA. Being a widower it is quite easy. He was clearly going somewhere in particular and she followed, getting aroused now. She knew what this was about. The twig-like heather scratched her through her jeans and he pointed as a big rabbit rose before them, a strangely-coloured one. It louped lazily off out of sight. Mountain hare, he turned and said: Just moving from winter white coat to summer blue. They’re rare this far south, we’re lucky to have seen it. He moved behind an outcrop of rock and she followed. A patch of sunlit grass.