Cellar is a more apt description of the space. It's squat and chilly and damp, but it's all mine. I have a workbench down there, with tools. I'm a woo...worker, or a sculptor, or something. I don't have any artistic pretensions, I just need a title to define what I do. It involves a large hunk of tree trunk, like a chopping block, that was one of the deluxe features that came with the house. I never felt like summoning the strength or friends to help me lug it up the stairs and outside. Since. I was a little less amused, but strangely fascinated at the same time. I felt the blade drag across my anus and saw it dip towards the water with a thick coating of black hair. She used the instrument with some aplomb much to my relief, her strokes quick and sure. She deftly followed the curve of my lower thigh round to my buttocks across my anus and down the other side. Then a quick wash in the bath water and back to work. As her strokes approached my balls, which had tightened somewhat since. One look in the mirror as I got out of the shower one morning shocked me. It was time for a complete change. If I wanted to see sixty, I needed to make some radical changes.Weight and lethargy were the first things I needed to tackle. I stopped the takeaways, the KFC and the ready meals. I rediscovered my love of cooking. I really cut back on the drinking. Instead of supermarket plonk, I joined a wine club and learned to enjoy a couple of glasses of something good rather than a bottle of cheap. Since he was grounded, Sidney saw no reason to hurry about getting up,except for the cartoon's that he always watched on Saturday's. ThoughCasey often gave him a bit of a hard time for watching cartoons, Sidneythought that they were amusing and enjoyed it. Once the last of thecartoons were over, Sidney went back to his room, to read some more MobyDick, and work on his jigsaw puzzle.The day went by slowly for Sidney, until early in the afternoon when hisparents had taken off to get groceries. .