Jerry looked up and smiled. Doesn't that feel better, he asked. With a nervous chuckle I said, I guess. But it actually felt exciting. After eating we went to the living room. I found the magazines I looked at the night before. Without clothing to confine my dick it started twitching as it stiffened. Seeing it Jerry said, show me what you're looking at. I turned it around for him to see. Bring it here, he said. I asked if I could have a beer. Sure he said.Coming back from the kitchen Jerry took my wrist and pulled me to him. He spread his legs and had me sit between them. Wrapping his arms around me he looked over my shoulder at the pictures. As I took a drink he moved his hand down to my dick. His hand was cool and felt good. He slowly moved it up and down as I turned the pages. I felt the coolness of my precum as he rubbed it around the head of my dick. After a few minutes he had me turn and lay across him. Pushing my legs apart he rubbed and pressed my scrotum while stroking my. And once more I gratefully retreated into the past.Back in that other, happier, world, I was still sat in the same place, although with some significant changes. The office where I now worked was still a decade away from being built; the bench was old and dilapidated, with peeling paint and a missing lath, making it slightly uncomfortable. The head against my shoulder more than made up for it though, as we both sat in and easy silence, listening to the children playing.This time, there was one child's voice that stood out from the crowd. It was that of our first-born. Although Emma is now in her twenties and will soon be married herself, the ten-year-old minx she was when she attended this school was how, I more often than not, remember her. The bench was having its desired effect and I was lost in that world I could only visit briefly. Those visits were what kept my sanity, what made suicide a viable option, yet perversely kept me from it.I was interrupted by a deep masculine voice..
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