DLS 16 : Maybe I’m getting old. 

Unusually I was away from home sans wife and offspring last night. Family business took me several hundred miles away from home overnight. I was staying with relatives but also taking the opportunity to visit an old school friend. Which presented another opportunity: the other day I spent an hour or so perusing locally available services on AdultWork.com but time was short, budget was limited, and if I’m honest, I’m not entirely sure how motivated I really am. Maybe next time.

However, being away from home life somehow always brings out the pervert in me.

So yesterday, as I drove a particularly prudish member of the family up to our conference, I enjoyed the feel of my rubber thong pulled snuggly in between my arse cheeks and the slightest scent of the rubber shirt under my sweater. I didn’t change to visit my old school friend either, and whilst he and I just shook hands, as his wife and I pressed cheeks, I wondered if she detected the odour of kink.

Driving back to my overnight lodgings, I contemplated a porn mag. I’ve not bought a copy of Club or Mayfair for quite a few years – far more explicit porn is free online so there’s no need, and the last time I looked, unless you bought a copy of 40 Plus, the models were frankly just a little bit young for my taste so it felt a little odd tossing myself off over pics of someone half my age. But that was several years ago, and maybe porn and my taste have changed. So I resolved to pick up a jazz mag on the way home and tug myself to sleep with it. Except, timings conspired to make me miss out on supper till I was on my way back to the house at nearly 10pm. I was hungry. It was late. I was tired. And there was only enough cash in my wallet for porn, or a take-away meal … but not both. In my youth, porn would have won every time. This time it didn’t.

An hour later, I sat in my borrowed room with a contented stomach, and shed my latex underwear. I was tempted to have a wank anyway … but no. Instead, I took my CB6000s from my travel bag (I like to be prepared, Dear Reader) and slid my cock and balls into the repressive cage.

You won’t be surprised to hear it woke me a several times last night with squeezes (ranging from gentle to intense), and I resolved to spend the next 20 or so hours encapsulated by it. Just for fun.

Maybe I’m slowing down with middle-age, and my drive for sex isn’t quite as constant as it was, but I do still thoroughly enjoy being a pervert.

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