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. " Thinking it would be my mom bringing my keys, I went off normally. But I was wrong. When I opened the door, there was a strong scent of men's cologne. There was a man standing there, wearing a black business suit, his hair was swept to the side and his hands were in his pockets. Wow, this man is handsome. "Scarlet?" His voice was deep and sexy. "Who are you?" I asked with my best poker face, trying to hide the fact I was melting inside. "You've grown so much." He stepped forward, towering. Nothing else seemed to stick.So, here we were, a pretty blonde 'entertainer' and a usually cautious bachelor about to take part in a 'morning after' discussion."So, Rita, why are you here?" Okay, okay, blunt and almost rude, but hey, I never said I was a charmer."I'm here because you invited me here. Don't you remember?" No, I don't. It's not that I don't believe you, it's just that this isn't like me..." I know," came the soft answer, and I saw an interesting look in her eyes."Just how much do. She took her shower and went to bed. Cliff turned off the television. During the game, he silently routed for Tammy’s team. After having a chance to think about it, he wished he hadn’t set sex as the terms of the bet.The next morning, Tammy was in a much better mood. She knew the team her team would face in the elite eight was the underdog. Her team beat them earlier in the year, and she was confident they would win again.On the way to the marina, Tammy talked to Cliff but didn’t mention.