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If Lucy isn't masturbating today, then neither shall I. It's just not fun if I can't imagine her breath quickening, her skin becoming dotted with pheromone laden sweat beads, growing into droplets that roll down her curves, her back arching into a profane fast food logo as she banishes her demons to some obscure doujin about... I dunno, minotaurs I guess? Yeah, that's pretty fucked up, but thinking about her hushed moans to hide both her pleasure and her degeneracy from her neighbors? It ignites a deep primal desire to break her silence. But alas, I can't do it. I just can't get excited if I can't think about her getting excited too.
