I for one believe you, as Abraham Lincoln once said "the world is not only stranger than you imagine it is stranger than you can imagine". Too bad someone shot him, he probably had at least a few more gems like that that he could have shared. Anyway I believe you because something very similar happened to me. In 1948 before I got divorced from the sockdologizing old mantrap that was my first wife, I used to masturbate to erotic flipbooks. It might be difficult for you young folks to imagine the appeal now with the easy access to video technology, but back then if you wanted to get the illusion of motion in your erotica in the privacy of your own home flipbooks or "Peek-a-books" as we called them were the only game in town. As you can imagine it was fairly difficult to jerk off and flip through a flipbook at the same time, and while there were several armature devices one could employ at the time, none of them were exactly fully automated as it were. I Actually had quite the collection, some of them were even early versions of "deep fakes" where the face of a celebrity would be cut out from film prints and pasted onto the bodies of the pornographic actresses in the Peek-a-book. I specifically recall one of my favorite "deep fakes" was a Peek-A-Book featuring Hedy Lamarr called "The Strange", You see the title was a bit of wordplay as Hedy famously starred in a film called "The Strange Woman" and even back then the phrase "getting some strange" was whispered in some of the sexier circles. Anyway, this Peek-a-book was about 5 to 8 seconds of "Hedy" getting her raven haired quim absolutely demolished by some strapping young sailor. I cannot tell you how many times I climaxed to that card deck sized stack of printed paper, even with all of the access to pornography the 21st century has brought I still wish I had that little Peek-a-Book. It wasn't just that Hedy was beautiful, she absolutely was, but she was also whip smart. You might not know this but during the war she helped develop a method for changing radio frequencies for torpedo guidance systems based on an idea she developed with pianist George Antheil. You see in order to avoid having the Krauts jam or manipulate the radio signals that guided allied torpedoes to their targets, the control frequency would hop around in a way that is difficult predict. Even more interestingly, some of the fundamental aspects of frequency hopping that she developed are still used today in Bluetooth LE devices. That Hedy sure was something, so it's easy to see why I would often retire to my study and rub one out to even a simulacrum of her sagacious sable tufted twat. So Anyway, one sunday afternoon after berating my disgusting wife for some petty transgression or another, I'm really working myself up into a lather with one hand and trying to flip through this Peek-a-Book with the other, when in walks my adult son's girlfriend. She was 27 at the time and I didn't know she was there (she had a key to the house as my son stayed in the guest house and sometimes used my study to sell insurance or more likely to also masturbate to my extensive Peek-a-book collection) so I hadn't locked the study door. At first she was a little embarrassed when she saw me sitting there squinting at a flipbook with one hand and going at my Johnson with the other. I then covered myself up and just as I was getting ready murder her and dispose of the body, she asked what kind of Peek-a-book it was and I showed her. She sat down with me and and she flipped through it several times while recounting to me Hedy's work on torpedo guidance systems. At some point as she flipped through the book, I began to stroke my cock as my hand crept up her skirt. Without a word, I brought us both to climax while she sensually flipped through the Peek-a-book over and over. She then left the study and it never came up again. She was married to my son until 1992 when he died due to complications stemming from multiple strokes; she died several months later presumably of loneliness. Through all those years she never spoke of it again, and took our sexy little secret to her grave; Me however, I still roam the earth yearning for death, unable to break the ancient curse of the wicked baba yaga.
Love,
Munder
