I used to go out with a lad called Finlay, an Irish lad, I've always had a thing for the Irish accent, so much nicer than the harsh tones of many peop...le in Glasgow, my home town at the time. I was born in Edinburgh, and lived there until my mum & dad divorced and mum moved back in with her parents in Easterhouse, a suburb of Glasgow.Anyway, Finlay won my heart with his lovely voice and his kindness. We started dating when I was 15 and he was 17. At first everything was perfect, we would go on. Lying in bed, he was trying to read to get his mind off sex. Don't they realize that I've been enhanced? My body makes semen and sperm whether I use them or not. And I'm accustomed to coming multiple times every night. I frickin' need to get off, he reasoned, but there wasn't anyone to hear his thoughts, let alone his gripes. I assumed I would be able to – at least – jerk off to relieve some of the pressure, but nooo, they anticipated that, and made me promise. Shit. My dick is hard as a steel. Helmsley ran off to?’ I asked. The girl shook her head. ‘Not a clue. That is, if she ran off at all. I’d hate to think that something happened to her, she was always a very nice lady. She came in here a few times. Talked with me about getting out of here, said she was sure she’d see me on the silver screen someday!’ She paused. ‘I wonder if she ever made it out to that cabin by the ocean she talked about, she said she was on her way out there that morning I talked with her, something very. It wasn’t enough to make it completely hard, but it did get my hormones on edge. I could now feel my swollen member on my leg. It was not an unpleasant sensation and my thoughts turned to fantasizing about becoming intimate with Claire. I imagined my hand reaching out and caressing her thigh, then moving slowly upwards...But I stopped. My cock was swelling even more and I knew that nothing would come of these erotic musings except perhaps an awkward pre-cum stain on my linen trousers. So I.