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The stupid iPod cable had a cut init, or something, I didn't know. All I knew is it didn't work anymore.Adelaide's was the new department store in town. They were having anopening-week sale and I figured it would be a good chance to replace thecable and check out the new place. I'd left my roommate Cal on the couchand went out to get our music situation sorted.I headed to the electronics section and began poking around, looking for anew cable. Before too long I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around."Can I help you, sir?" he chirped. I looked up. He was tall, taller thanme at least, a broad man with a wide smile and slicked hair, stuffed intothe store uniform. I paused for a moment, caught in his intense eyes."Um, well, I'm just looking for a new cable," I stammered."Of course, sir, right this way," he said smiling. He motioned me tofollow him and I did to a rack of cables."Oh, thanks." I took one off of the rack and started to turn towards theregisters."Wait just a moment..."I. Listening to tunes. Playing video games. Smoking more weed than Inormally did.Surfing porn.DESCENT/ASCENTNothing too serious, at first, but then more and more. The only time Iwas going outside was for groceries, not wanting to risk getting theCovid, so most of my days were spent naked, playing with myself.Practicing social distancing, just like the health pros recommended.But more time online meant more weed, and more masturbation. Every day.All day, sometimes. It became a cycle.I didn't see any harm in it, to be honest. I began spending practicallyall of my time masturbating, slowly stroking myself for longer andlonger periods of time, hours and hours of reading stories and watchingvids and lurking in chat rooms. At first I fell in love with lesbianporn. The softness and gentleness and beauty of the actresses, oramateurs, hit a nerve in me that could keep me for hours. And Idiscovered that non-stop edging like that would make me produce streamsof the most amazing clear.
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