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Online cybersex leads to something incredible

With infuriatingly fit lithe strides, his middle aged son had rushed across the room to stand beside him. Jaw dropped, eyes narrowed in disbelief, the lad was reading the lines on the screen as they vanished, viewing the site with its pornographic avatars lined merrily up for play.

Hopeless though it was, Joe shut all the screens and then sat with his head bowed and a hand still covering his now completely flaccid penis.

"Jesus Christ!" his son expostulated.

Tears glistened in Joe's eyes. He could not stop thinking about the lost pleasure of ShirleyMac's precious orgasm.

"Fine family history you've been writing!" his son went on wrathfully. "I thought you were slow because you didn't understand how the internet works. Not understand the internet! Oh my God."

The poor kid staggered back and sat heavily in the armchair by the desk. He was a kid to Joe; only forty-five. Look at him: fit and healthy, amicably divorced from some pleasant lazy cow with children they both loved. He wasted his time going to the gym and playing golf when he could have been enjoying the wet hungry pussies of young women like the beautiful curvaceous ShirleyMac.

Joe attempted to pull some rags of dignity back. "You should at least knock before you come in my room!" he said angrily. "Why can't I have a lock on the door?"

"In case you forget your pills and can't open the door yourself," Joey said wearily. This argument had been had many times. "What the Hell was that? Was that site seriously called Orgasm Young?"

Joe began a painful blush. It sounded bad in his son's mouth. "We call it OY," he mumbled. "It's just somewhere people go to have some fun."

"You dirty old ... bastard!" there was nothing sexy about the way his son said it. Eyes narrowed in disgust and thin-lipped, he stared at Joe, who sat blushing and hanging his head, still tearful with the emotion of cyber-fucking ShirleyMac.

"It's not like that," Joe protested. "Nobody knows what age you really are."

"Exactly," his son fumed. "There could be young kids on there, below the age limit, and you ... you've been ..." words failed him.

"Oh no," Joe said earnestly. "You can tell if it's a real inexperienced kid. I pick them up and pretend I'm going to give them a rough ride, get them a bit scared and then I PM them and warn them off, tell them to stick to chatting with friends they know and can trust."

"PM?" his son said, bewildered.

"Private Message," Joe explained. "I have to be careful, of course. I don't want the crowd on there thinking I'm not one of the lads."

His son sat staring at him, his horror and disgust not lessened by this revelation.

"You go on, pretending to be like some bloody stud and ... picking up young ... young ..."

"All right!" Joe shouted angrily. He had started to cry, in some disgusting old way. "What do you want me to do, stuck here in this place full of dribbling old fools where the most exciting thing that happens is that someone pees himself when they take us to a re-run of black and white movies in the cinema!"

"Jesus," his son expostulated. "Couldn't you at least get it together with people more your age? Bloody kids you're ... you're cruising!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Joe scoffed. "Do you think there are sites out there called Silver Slags where seventy and eighty year old women look for hot even older blokes?"

"Yeah but, Dad," Joey said feebly, then he sat up and took a grip on the situation. "This has got to stop," he said angrily.

They stared at each other.

"Dad, you can't go cruising some site full of young kids. You'll be arrested! They'll take your computer away."

Joe realised that this latter was a real possibility. He sat with his hand gently holding the mouse, staring into the blank screen of his precious PC.

"For Christ's sake," Joey said. "You've got to stop going on these sites."

"There's just the one," Joe proteste

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