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” He looked at me for several seconds, as if mulling the issue over. “Come on,” I added.“Alright, fine,” he mumbled, “but you can’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t like it if they found out.”“I promise,” I said, and got up to follow him into his room. He shut the door, even though there was no one else home, and probably wouldn’t be for a couple days. He stood there for a moment, as if not sure what to do. “Well, take your clothes off,” I said impatiently.He peeled off his T-shirt, and slid down his shorts. In his haste to dress himself, he had skipped putting on boxers. I stared at his cock, pointing slightly downward. “It’s not hard, right?”“Right,” he answered.“Can I touch it?” I asked. He stepped closer to me, and I reached down for a feel, curling my hand around his shaft. I could feel it filling up in my hand as I did, and slowly starting to point its way upward. I watched it grow until it was long and curved and pointing up at about a 45 degree angle. “Cool,” I said. This was the first and last gaming industry show that I would go to for a very long time. If Marsha hadn't been at my side keeping me from running away, I probably would have. I was treated as if I was a rock star, but I didn't know at all how to react. I felt like a small boy dressed up in my fathers best suit wearing shoes several times too large for me. I think it was my appearance at this computer industry trade show that created the lasting public image of me as the 'eccentric and reclusive genius that was very ill at ease with fame and fortune.' I wouldn't at all argue with this.They were probably exactly correct. Other than my daughter and co-workers, I had no one to share the little joys and triumphs of my life with. I had found out some time before that Becky had finally divorced from Tony (his short NFL career was now over and was considered to be very much an utter failure) and she was living back at home with her mother. I didn't see her on any of my very irregular visits.
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