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I told her she could use the couch because I was going fishing. She hugged me and even kissed my cheek as she thanked me for my support and my company. As 'Bo and I wound our way through the trees to the meadow, that spot on my cheek stayed warm and tingly. I didn't really feel any of the ups and downs of the trail because my feet weren't really touching the ground.I didn't fish that day. I stripped off my clothes and let the damp moss tickle my ass and back while my eyes clenched and my hand flew up and down on my dick. In the course of the next hour I brought myself off three times. By then my dick was almost raw so I had to stop, but it stayed hard. I waded into the stream and the cold water finally made me shrink. I stayed in there until I ached all over, especially in my chest - where my heart is.I finally got out and lay back in the moss again. I wasn't horny any more, but I was filled with a kind of sadness for something that could never be. The sun was warm and dried me off.. Something in his brain told him he was fucked, and needed to lie the fuck down, told him he was beaten and bruised, even though he didn’t feel like it.He stared down at the sink. Red eyes. Glowing, red eyes. Maybe a spirit, like the ones in the alley? No, those his instincts told him were spirits. They smelled like spirits; what that was, his human brain wasn’t able to put a finger on, but they did. There were spirits in his dreams, but they couldn’t have been real, just dream things spawned by whatever was clawing its way out of the depths of his subconscious to talk to him.He looked at the mirror again. Everything turned double, and started dancing around. Colors blurred, bleeding over each other. Hallucinating? No, he knew this feeling, the same feeling of being in a choke hold. Except you were normally lying on the ring floor during one of those, not standing.He collapsed. One of his hands managed to grab the sink basin on the way down, but he went down anyway, bodyweight jerking.
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