As it turns out, my desk is right next to our front window and most days, that is where my “personal time” happens. Well, for some reason, in my neighborhood, the mailman doesn’t have a specific schedule, other than, by some luck, instinct or intention…that mother fucker walks right up the steps and looks in the window while I’m mid fap. I am not sure if he sees all the action but he must, at very least, think I’m clumsy as I always frantically grab for the nearest thing to obscure his view of my rigid junk.

Anyway…thats that.