" I didn't know you were a painter, Clint," Philip said."I'm not. I paint as a hobby, a way to harmlessly regurgitate my creative urges."A middle-age ...oman joined us. Terry Carr, the painter, I assumed."Clint, I'd like to see the painting Loni just told us about," Philip said.Like Philip, I ignored the woman and said, "Well, Jack, do you want the commission or not? Have you got the guts to put your life's work on the line? I'll pay you either way, so you won't be out your time. But money isn't. Secondly, I no longer get to touch myself for pleasure. At ALL. No masturbating for a LONG time! Any time I get an urge and the body reacts as a guy, it physically hurts. Does that mean that I no longer have sexual urges? Of course not! What I am conditioning myself to do is get the male to female equivalent of a genetic girl getting wet. Sarina Valentina is a great example. Watch her videos and you will see that her “cock” doesn’t get hard, you never see her cum in a video, and her thing is. It was a half finished housing development abandoned by the financial recession. We fooled around in this exact same car in that exact same place on our third date.I nodded and he grinned.The car pulled out of the drive-in theatre and Martin sped down the right streets to the spot, the fingers on his right hand still dancing on the inner part of my upper thigh. At every stop, we kissed, sometimes getting so star-crossed that we wouldn’t know the light had turned green until the noisy honking of. "What are you doing?" Don Hugo demanded to know, thrusting his pistol about as he spoke. "You will not stop rowing. You will take me to the island." No noble gentleman, we will not take you to the island as you want," the captain declared sternly. "Not when you point a pistol at me and threaten me with harm. You have but one shot and I have a dozen men armed with blades. You must make your choice now. Continue in this manner and you will die."Don Hugo glanced frantically about him. The crew had.