Heck, my mother never used a timer or a measuring spoon. Her eyes and her nose were good enough for her and nobody ever complained about her cooking.T... tell the truth, my watch was more for verifying the time than anything else. Pretty much the only thing I'd used it for was meals, and I looked at it when I got the feeling it was getting close to eatin' time. I used the position of the sun and my body's built in clock more than my watch. Besides, there was a big ole bell on the porch that the. Burning in shame, I had no choice but continue my humiliating task ofmasturbating a total stranger with my throat in the shady motel room,as he watched TV and drank beer...I don't know how log it he kept it like that. If felt like forever. Inmy shame, discomfort and humiliation, I completely lost the track oftime and all coherent thought, just suffering, loosing strength,lifting my head less and less, loosing the battle between fatigue andthe need to breath... In my tortured, delirious state, I. More

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