I was no longer a white collar drone or a drunk. I felt like a modern day cowboy. The bike was my horse ... beautiful, powerful yet fragile, and would... kill you if the rider didn't stay in control. I was a biker and the road in front of me was more important than what was behind. I was in control of my life. The bike did as I instructed it to do. My safety was my responsibility. These thoughts became integrated into my life philosophy.As I rode, I could smell the rhythms of life around me, feel. . kein Essen verschwenden, keinen fremden Leuten die Tür aufmachen und.. ähm.. niemals nach draußen gehen!" Der Vater nickte lächelnd. "Ja richtig. Du weißt, warum die letzte Regel die wichtigste ist, ja?", fragte er zur Sicherheit. "Weil draußen wilde Pokemon sein können, ich weiß Papaaaa.", sagte sie genervt und schob ihren Vater mit aller Kraft an, auf das er doch endlich gehen würde."Hey, wenn du willst, dass ich gehe, dann gehe ich eben. Kein Problem.", sagte er und tat so als ob er. It started at school with the thrill of "fiddling" with a class mate under the desk during lessons and progressed from there. As a gay man in my twenties I was somewhat promiscuous and, although I indulged in the usual sucking and fucking, I much preferred to wrap my fist round a stiff cock and slowly bring my partner to a shattering climax. I got (and still get) a particular kick giving "straight" guys a handjob and have always been surprised at the number of married men who are quite happy. I knew he had to face me in order to cut the grass, now was the time. I slowly unwrapped to paper from around my ice-pop licking it from the bottom all the way up to the rounded tip letting it sit in my mouth until the juice ran down the side. I continued this process until the ice-pop was a small circle on the stick. I tilted my head back and stuck the stick in my mouth until it disappeared, then I slowly pulled it out leaving nothing but a bare stick, still he tried to focus on his work I was.