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I remember the motion and the feeling; the pure wanton release of youth, and the unbelievable frequency of it. I blush, remembering the stiff stained ...heets; proof of the act, or sometimes just the dream.I lie on my back, calm and sure in the warmth, and slide my hands down my skin. There's a certain inevitability in the movement, despite the fact that I'm convinced I could stop.Fingertips slide gently over the cloth at first, proud of the bulge, and the subtle leak from its tip. There's a. Me!Abby Hatem, aka, Pirate Mask, aka, what the absolute fuck!?I looked down at myself and saw a shimmering bluish shape that looked a bit like my warform, albeit a lot smaller. I put my hands on my chest, and tried to shout, but no sound came out of my mouth. Ali didn’t seem to notice that anything was weird and I felt that kind of confusing combination of pure outrage and utter arousal that came from seeing my girlfriend getting felt up by another man. Since, it wasn’t another man. It was me!. More

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