" Candy, things are a bit tight right now but maybe after the first of the year we can remodel the baseme..." Dammit, Joe! Listen to me. I need lots ...f time. I need lots of space ... personal space. Is that clear enough for you? I don't even have enough space to think!" Well, Honey, I guess I'm a little slow. Just what did you have in mind?" Maybe we should start seeing other people.Baby, things are moving way too fast for me." Well, Joe, things are just moving too fast for me." Geez, Candy.. The very tip of one finger, the very tip of one cock.I tease myself from the outside in. Sometimes a thin sheet helps, an additional covering to numb the pulse. I rub, slowly but surely; sliding fingers down the sides of the solid shaft; tracing the familiar outline of the hardness.My cock isn't unusual, I don't think. It's soft over hard, stretchy skin covering a rigid shaft. It's almost flat when I'm on my back, and slightly curved towards my body. Its girth is an unknown. Small enough that I. In my best Pennsylvania German accent I said, "Morning. We are looking for deserters that are causing trouble. Had any trouble from deserters?"The man said, "No trouble here. This is my overseer, Jacob Washington." Mr. Washington." We were treated good here. Nobody left. We don't expect no trouble and don't want no trouble." Sergeant, we're not needed here. I bid you a good day and congratulate both of you. Not everyone is so fortunate."The white man said, "We don't have much, but we do have. Airplanes down. Trains derailed in some areas. Houses scorched. All contact lost with the outside world, save for some clumsy radio communications.Into this breach stepped Alan Levy, a 21-year old Jew with a knack for figuring out what went wrong in any given disaster. Now, this chap wasn't Orthodox. He didn't keep kosher, he didn't keep the Sabbath, and he most certainly didn't walk around with a yarmulke on his head all day. (A yarmulke, for those not aware of such things, looks rather like.