When I’m sad, happy, grouchy, or just bored, my hand automatically reaches down into my underwear and onto my cock. I can hardly be left alone for a...few minutes on a comfortable piece of furniture without rubbing myself. Hotels are the worst—often, the only place to sit down is a bed, so I’m basically just touching myself the entire time I’m in the room.My first memories of masturbating are from when I was about 9 or 10 years old. My mother would often catch me, and proceed to give me hell like. Her knees trembled.Head in the clouds, she backed away from the hungry pony. Her passion had made her bold, reckless. With a carefree air, she took off her panties and jeans. She stood totally naked.She staggered back to the pony, wrapped her arms around his thick neck and hugged him. Then passion took over."Un, un, un!" Moaning deliriously, she rubbed and squeezed her tits against his golden coat. Her tits scraped back and forth against the prickling hair. Needle-sharp hairs tortured her. She was shocked. She pulled back and asked me what I was doing. I told her it wasn't fair that she had seen me naked and I hadn't seen her. I reached over and squeezed her right tit as I put my arm around her waist and pulled her to me. She tried to pull away. I pulled Judy into the living room and sat on the couch and told her I saw her last night in the hallway and if she didn't do what I told her that I would have to tell Wendy. She called me a bastard. As my hand slid up her leg under her. Only 100 dollars."Robert was stunned. He was sitting by one of the most beautiful womenhe'd ever seen and she'd basically just told him she was a guy. He knewhe should leave but, as she stood up and took him by the hand, he feltpowerless to resist and just followed her like an obedient puppy.The room above the bar was fairly clean and pleasant enough and, as hiscompanion started to undress, he couldn't help admiring her breasts,obviously surgically enhanced but perfectly shaped all the same. .