The Second Hand Man

Thinking of that first time with Hannah had gotten me more than a little worked up. Of course, a guy in my position will have to return to relieving himself with the help of girly magazines for awhile – a very long while!!!

Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Oh, what embarrassing practices I’m forced to undertake.

I was once a man who was having the pleasure of the company of high class call girls. Some of the best flesh available that money could buy.

After my second divorce I was having $500 hookers round at the mansion just about every other night. Sometimes, when the fancy took me, and I was feeling a little more liberal and energetic than normal, I would even invite over two at the same time.

I had this regular, Mandy. Who knows what the hell her real name was? But for the way she handled her clients, she could have called herself Harry and I would still have been happy paying for her special services.

I later heard from one of the other girls that she’d been stabbed to death by some sicko crackhead.

I missed her sorely. Unlike most in her profession, she had a pretty good head on her shoulders. Between sessions we used to have some rather interesting and intellectual conversations.

Who knows, one day I might even look her up again?

Anyhow, now here I am reduced to wishful thinking and fantasizing between the pages of a glossy magazine. The only plus factor is that I don’t need to use any tissues yet – I ain’t even physically developed enough to produce a mess.

Hell, as I already mentioned, in my first life, it was years before I discovered there was more to Mister Winky than piddling!

After my first orgasm, it was as if scales had fallen from my eyes. Life, and especially girls, would never be viewed in the same light ever again! Even though it would take me some time to realize that the scheming, irritating pony-tailed kids that had delighted in teasing the little boys, had grow up and developed bodies and minds that would continue to scheme, irritate and tease the little boys who were older but had never grown up.

I am happy to say that my father’s hiding place for his girly (I have no idea why people call them that when there’s absolutely nothing girly about them at all?) magazines is the same now as it was much later when I had inadvertently discovered them in his workshop inside the ripped off covers of some Popular Mechanics.

Hmm, actually the appropriateness of the title only now comes to mind!

It is easy to note that the concept of the ideal, beautiful, naked woman has…will change quiet radically through the years.

Still, I must confess that I find the girls in these earlier magazines are a lot prettier. I guess you could say they are more natural.

There’s none of that pseudo enhanced beauty – no silicon, no liposuction, no plastic surgery and definitely no damned photoshopping either.

The women are a lot more buxom and with fuller figures too. I prefer that much more to the anorexic fare of the future.

I guess I prefer women who have a bit more meat on their bones.

That’s why I later found Hannah to be so alluring.

She once told me, “Nobody trusts a thin baker.”

And although I knew it was not her original quip on the matter, we still had a jolly good laugh about it!