I’m tight lipped and closed pocket man who has little to offer and too much to take. I don’t remember the last time I stopped and smelt the roses. The moment I stepped in the park, I wanted to run away. I knew I didn’t belong there. It was for life appreciating people not for the self burdened heavy headed person like me. I found a spot and sat down. When I looked to the other side of the street I was shocked. I could see millions of me rushing everywhere. I saw cars, buses and people in a rush, on the go. When I was among them, everything made sense. Go to uni, work and home, have dinner, watch TV, do assignments and go to bed. From this side of the road nothing made sense. Where is life? I felt less of a person and more like a robot.I looked at my surroundings, an oasis in the middle of the city. The freshly cut grass reminded me of my childhood, of those long lost summer days when my father mowed the lawn and I used to follow him. There were a few big, dark trees standing tall,. Although I would be lying if I said the idea hadn't become a growing curiosity fantasy over the past few months leading up to the 'incident'.I mean, I was, and still am, happily married, although our once wild sex life had dwindled to once, maybe twice a month, sex. And not the wild in public, or marathon sex sessions of our younger days, either... usually missionary, with maybe thirty seconds of head if I was lucky.I'm not defending what I'm about to tell you, just giving you the reality of the mundane sex life I was living before the 'incident'.With so little actual sex, I spent a lot of time online... sometimes it was watching porn, but more times than not it was reading erotica.Mostly I read lesbian (I loved the idea of girls seducing older women... often imaging my wife being seduced), group (the idea of swinging with my wife was a secret fantasy), i****t (I personally wasn't interested in committing i****t, but the taboo of it did turn me on), interracial (I couldn't explain it,.
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