#58654 - This was the micro-organism, he knew; this was the Storm. He would jerk off five, six, seven times a day, moaning her name, imagining fucking her tight asshole, or wet pussy, or her lips wrapped around his shaft. He tried to improve, knew he had a problem, deleted Johannah as a friend and dumped all of his photos of her; however, as much as he tried, each time he heard her come and go, the sound of her heels or boots on those marble floors, his heart would race and his cock would grow.
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