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Making my virtual Will...


AnyNameWillDo

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I've been meaning to write a diary for a while but didn't really know how I wanted to tackle this. I could document my time here from year dot, but feared this would become long-winded and self-indulgent. I even toyed with mimicking the film Memento by starting at the end and working my way to the beginning, but concluded that would be, well, a bit shit. So, I'm not gonna tell my story. This will be a place where I make some observations based on two years of virtual life, and if you want to read, feel free...

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Good Will Naming...

 

It was a familiar feeling, after all I had been here before.

A torrent of thoughts in collision and splitting like atoms, a physical tension gripping my body and the emotional brain within me taking the reigns from the logical mind which best informs all our actions. Fight or flight? Well 3DX makes flight so much easier than real life.

Relax. This isn’t some emotional outpouring of self-pity, or a lame attempt at justification. It’s merely context. I was in-game and I wanted to get out.

But I had a problem as I looked at the character screen. I only had one avi and he needed deleting. Except you can’t leave all the slots blank can you, and I wanted to erase my latest past. I wanted a clean break; an end point, the finish line breasted. I want my race to be run - the virtual life was not for me.

‘Fuck it, Vince just type anything’, I told myself as the cursor blinked back at me from the blank space on my screen where ‘people’ are born. And so I did, then deleted my life and left.

I called Freya. That was unfair of me really, we’d not been together for months and she’d left the game herself after her virtual life had gone stale. For the first time in a year or so we’d drifted. But I knew she’d understand.

‘Oh… I thought everything was so much better this time round?’, she asked me with a mixture of justifiable mocking and light-hearted teasing.

And then, out-of-the-blue, this. ‘C’mon Vince, log-in you ARSE! Let’s hang out.’ And she meant right now.

So there I was. Back at the character screen minutes after I had left for ever, with no gold to make a new one and confronted with the reality if I was going come back I was gonna have to get used to being known as AnyNameWillDo…

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#memento #goodmovie #remindsmeofmyself #fromendtobeginning? #really? #lostallmyletters #damn #remembers #mustseemovieagain

I even toyed with mimicking the film Memento by starting at the end and working my way to the beginning ...


60020435.jpg

 

TATTOO : FACT 6 CAR LICENSE SG13 7IU

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What a wanker

 

The first time I went back to a girl’s apartment it was merely part of a first-day tour. She had been kind enough to show me all the five locations (yes, only five back then) and indulged my strained conversation along the way. Of course, when she asked if I would like to see her apartment, part of me assumed I might have struck lucky but being new and not wired to cold anyone - I never have and never will - I thought I’d play it cool.

 

Yeah, be cool Vince…

Not colding was never merely a respect thing - although that was a large part of it - as I’d reasoned desperation is not alluring whether it be in real or virtual life. And so we teleported to her place and once there I saw how rooms could be personalised and thought nothing more. Until: ‘Lie on the bed if you like?’, she asked. Is this…. I mean, are we… could I… could I be about to get laid, I thought?

 

Yeah, be cool Vince….

So I clicked her bed - we hadn’t partnered, but maybe she was suggesting she'd show me how to lie there together - and I was confronted with a button which appeared to display a man standing up and masturbating, as males couldn’t simply lie down alone back then.

Now any sensible person would come to the conclusion the image of the five-knuckle shuffle was a huge clue to what would happen next, but without stopping to think, I pressed, probably assuming that in no way would a sex game decide such an odd stance would be the default position for male self-pleasuring. After all, in real life I’ve never thought ‘I fancy a wank’ and then stood in the middle of my mattress.

To my utter surprise, there I was, standing on her bed, trousers somehow discarded (with my shoes still on, which I still find kinda odd) stroking my man sausage with a slow and steady rhythm. My first thought was ‘Why is my avi's head bent forward in a manner suggesting I may be a little retarded?’ but soon I wanted it all to stop. Frantically, I clicked the bed again and to my relief (hand relief?) the image of the man knocking one out reappeared. I pressed, thinking it was an on/off switch. But nothing. I pressed again. Still nothing and by now we had gone beyond the point of all this appearing a genuine error to being ever so slightly creepy.

‘Oh my’… said the girl.

Press, press, press…. wank, wank, wank….

Finally, out the corner of my eye I saw a large red box ‘STOP SEX’. But having adopted the Bill Clinton definition of love making, it hadn’t until now appeared to be the answer to my masturbation issue. Nevertheless, I pressed it. And despite now standing trouserless and erect, my nightmare was soon over when I finally remembered how to get dressed.

We chatted a few times after that day, but never did fuck. I wonder why?






 

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That's awkward. Period.

 

At the end of my first date with Freya we found ourselves on the secret beach, slow dancing and look at the sea. A lovely moment shared at the end of a lovely day but eventually interrupted by her ex and, clearly, a very persistent F5. Soon followed by a PM...

 

 

'You two look very cozy'

 

'Mmhmmm, just chatting and watching the waves.'

 

'Nice :}'

 

'She's got a migraine though, we're logging soon'

 

'My sister gets migraines on her period'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Pregnant pause)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

'Ok, think we're gonna log now...'

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  • 2 weeks later...

Making a cock of myself

 

 

“Vince, I want your cock!”

“Ok…. let’s log in then”, I replied excitedly.

“No….. I want YOUR cock!”

About a week later the mould-a-willy kit arrived at my house…

Now, you’d think this would be a simple process: wank… insert…. wait… withdraw… fill…. bingo. It developed into a living Hell.

I didn’t take long to realise, this was designed to be a two-person task, something for couples to do together, largely those in a long-distance relationship, but not for Freya and I; not for two people who hadn’t yet met. And I could hardly recruit a right-hand man, could I? No, if I was gonna get this done, I was flying solo.

Now, I don’t know about anyone else but I don’t diarize bouts of self-pleasuring, they just kinda happen. But for this I needed to prepare. Mould resin? Check. Mixing container? Check. Spatula? Check. Correct amount of water? Check. Water at precisely 60c? Check (yeah, a thermometer was provided) Laptop? Check. Cat locked out of kitchen? Check. Porn clip? Check. Erection?…………..


Well…………………………………



                                                                                                                                 **some little time later**



….……………………. everything comes to he who waits - and watches a lot of You Porn clips - and eventually I was good to go, but I have to be honest this wasn’t in any way sexy. Now guys, I’m sure I’m not alone, but carefully emptying a packet of powder and mixing in a precise quantity of water are not thoughts which usually race through my mind while engrossed in carnal pleasure-seeking. And it’s not like I had a big ‘window’. No, this resin would set hard within two minutes from when it was mixed with water.

If only other things set hard with such inevitability…

There’s no easy way to describe this but my first attempt was a flop as the drawbridge slowly lowered - afterall both my hands were busy elsewhere - at exactly the wrong time as my mind was forced from thinking about sex to ‘hmmmm there’s still some lumps in this’. But regardless, I pressed on, feeding my rapidly-diminishing manhood into the rapidly-setting moulding liquid like a Victorian washer woman offering up clothes to a mangle.

The outcome was not good. Less lifelike cock, more grotesquely melted candle, with a collapsed bellend, which sounds like a medical condition. Take two….

I awaited the arrival of mould-a-willy 2.0 with trepidation and some genuine anxiety, deflecting Freya with excuses that the kit had yet to arrive, which was technically true, because the second kit was still on dispatch.  

But don’t despair, this story has a happy ending - quite literally. Take two was an unqualified success (practice makes perfect) and to this day she has a little (err… reasonably well proportioned) piece of me with her whenever we get some naughty time….

But go on, have a laugh at my expense. It’s okay, I’m good at making a cock of myself…. eventually.

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Freya must have really really small hands

That's clearly a forgery.... the air bubble on the bellend is not present!!! 

 

Chloe has been rumbled XD. That's her hand on her AnyNameWillDo fantasy cock (available free with all bulk orders of her Bitchhikers T-shirts, see her diary for details)

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