Again she felt him give her a shove. Again she stumbled but managed to stop herself from tripping. She balanced on her platforms as the door slammed b...hind her. Her head turned and eyes peered through the dangle of ringlets as he stripped off his undone shirt. Her brows lifted and she thought, damn he looked fucking amazing for near sixty, well maintained. His eyes made a quick scan of her room then stopped directly on her. He inquired, ‘Where’s your stash?’ Oh, he knew fetishists well, they. She only spoke to me twice after we broke up. She hasn’t said a single word since. I didn’t understand what she meant, so I just ignored it. I wasn’t ready to be in a new relationship, so I didn’t bother with that either. I was having the worst luck with hook-ups, so I did what everyone does in that situation; I went to porn. At first, it was just what I did right before bed, wanting something to help get me off. It soon turned into a need, slowly turning into several times a day. Porn became. More

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