An ice-blue sky with the flavour of mint. All is texture. Time is a flywheel whirring in reverse, whistling softly. Today I will take the metro, at t...e same time of course. The wheels will squeak and squeal in just the same way. I will breathe in the people and the scent of their lives. I will get off at Gran Via. The train will slip away, leaving my nose filled with tunnel air, stale and temporary. I will walk to Puerta del Sol, past painted young women offering morning sex. I will enter the. Like there was adirect link between them and my cock. I kept massaging my nipples withone hand as the other slowly rubbed the cream into my abdomen beforereaching my stiff member.I began to stroke my hand up and down my shaft, all the while playingwith my nipples and staring at my smooth tanned skin in the mirror. Mycock was well lubricated with the moisturiser and my hand slipped easilyalong its length. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror I began toimagine a petite Thai girl, smiling as. More

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