Travelling for work, you never know what kind of internet access you’ll have or if you can trust who’s monitoring it. It pays to have a “wank bank” of porn on a UBS key for those lonely nights when you’re in the hotel room, alone, and you can’t sleep. Me, I’m a little old school: images not video. Amature not professional. Mature not nubile. Tumblr accounts that hoovered up postings couples made, posts of photos taken during semi drunken encounters or fantasy fulfilment escapades always turned me on. The cuckold husband. The hotwife. The old friends who decided life was boring, youth has escaped them and reputation be damned they were going to have fun and show the world what they were capable of. I had my favorite accounts, kept them up to date, knew the ones that were trusted by those who made content and those who craved it. I would scan through them, imagining myself amongst the action. Being the stunt cock in the mix, there for the fun but a side attraction for the main event that was hedonism and infidelity in action.