His brown eyes lit upon an overturned Guinness crate. It had to be nearing the thirtieth anniversary of its unremarkable birth, but the old man with t...e sore body saw no other option. With that thought, a memory flashed vividly before the old man’s still vibrant eyes. He could see Philippe de la Croix’s face as clear as day, the blue eyes, the short-sheared light brown hair, the aquiline features. His sardonic voice as he repeated an old Yiddish proverb: ‘No option is still an option.’ The Jew. He pulled over at the next rest stop and had to do the same. No hesitation, no apologies, no judgments. While he jerked off we talked about the sensations I just had and how often, when and where I like to ejaculate. He explored my cock with his own hands as we talked. I talked about jerking off with my neighbor a couple years ago- he had taught me to masturbate like I do. I cleaned up my dick, but left it out and we played with it while we talked. He got so hard just talking that he did. With that shit-eating grin on his face, he ran a comb through his wet hair, brushed his teeth, and proceeded to get dressed. Still having no idea what his mother had in mind, he pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a white polo shirt, one he knew that fit nicely over his sculpted torso. Just in case, he decided to go commando, leaving even the idea of donning underwear stuffed away in his dresser drawer. With a final satisfied look in the mirror, he grabbed his phone and headed downstairs,. Maybe you need some stress relief.”She opened his zipper and fit her soft hand inside.“It doesn’t work anymore, Bianca.”“What? You can’t get hard again?”“I have no desire, no want of sex right now while my ass is on the line. We have to get that money.”“I guess you want me to walk the streets, then?”“Of course not. The cops may love you for it. But you should save your work for when we recover the money.You must have made enough of it already. I hate the idea of you doing your tricks with.