Subsequently he went on to found a religion, but that's a different story.Oh, the things I've seen, the songs I've played, the scenes I've sung, the t...ales I've typed. Sex. Madness. Despair. Exaltation. Hot passion. Cold rage. It's a wonder my battered old hulk has survived it all.And here I sit atop rotting orange peels inside the dumpster, waiting for the trash haulers to take me away. I've seen better times, methinks.Poor deluded mortals, you still don't suspect, do you? We are the ones. It drove me crazy, slidingmy hands across her silky, stocking clad legs, exploring the hemof her dress line with my hands under the dinner table. It wouldalways work me up to a raging hard on, and she would alwaysrespond by gently rubbing my hard on through my pants whenevershe could manage a discreet grab. This usually resulted in usleaving the dinner table for home (or the car) as soon aspossible. I haven't had a dessert with her yet, well not in therestaurant that is.Once, after a. Grabbing the piece of a dirty cloth, Susie went to Jeff’s room. As Susie opened the door, she was shocked to see Jeff sitting in the chair with a magazine of nude women spread open on his study table in front of him, and he was stroking his cock, which was very big and hard. “Sorry,” Susie said and tried to close the door immediately. “No, it’s okay. Wait,” Jeff replied. Susie should have just run away, but she stopped. With the door half opened and still holding the piece of old dirty. He felt he could make it work however, and the trade off would more than compensation for the degradation of information between his body and the system. If he wasn't able to, he was afraid his deal was off. A red sensor lit up on the smaller of the two consoles. "Shit! SHIT!" he shouted and then gathered himself to think. He looked at small patch of flesh on his arm. There was a small rivulet blood trickling down his arm. He swallowed hard and picked up the scalpel that sat on the workbench.