The memory somehow made the hair on my back rise. A distant, logical and pedantic part of my troubled, aching mind sought to inform the other part –...the instinctive, impulse-driven part – that technically, I had no hair. No back for that matter either.If I really had to be true and faithful to that stream of thought, I should have insisted on telling myself that I had no brain either, no corporeal existence of any kind. In a sense, it wasn't even me waiting to re-integrate across the other end. The car stopped with a little distance down but nobody got out. Though I could see, that the driver was watching me through the rearview mirror. I started masturbating and rubbing my glans, causing the outflow of some sticky but clear precum. Nothing happened. I stood up, positioning myself with spread legs to show the guy my straight uprisen steel-hard fucking dick. Nothing again. So I bent over, pulled apart my ass cheekes and exposed my humid asshole, telling him that way: come out and get. More

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