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Every time I was done, I found myself lost in clarity
Sex wasn't my drive for sex
It came down to feeling skin against skin, and those new toys were sometimes better than the real thing, moved exactly like the real thing, and smelled better when sweating.
Just as I had thought, it was loneliness that pushed me to self-pleasure. An empty bed, a blanket with a cold far side, a house where none but the voice of actors and actresses were heard. When I was home, I could only speak to myself, and it wasn't a fascinating or interesting dialog at all.
For too long, I held myself back, sedating my desires with a life-sized toy that took on the exact appearance of one of the girls on my compass
That night, I set my mind to human connection, but when I awoke the next day, I had no idea how I would go up to one of the girls and introduce myself without compromising my obsession with a person who had no idea I existed.
During patrol that day, I took part in a broken, sometimes heated, exchange with myself. Thanks to the new tech chipped into me, I secured a much better-paying job with the intelligence services. I had a good home, but I was planning to move out into something better, a nicer condo, maybe even a villa with its own pool and garden and bodyguards. As far as lifestyle, I didn't smoke, didn't drink, went to bed early, and never stepped into a nightclub. Not the most handsome of men, but I could rock a solid beard and a better buzzcut – thank God for my small nose. A public officer couldn't get a business for himself, but I could do it incognito like all other officers. But none of the girls I fancied even knew about me. Well, they would if I made myself visible.
