After a week I was pretty itchy in the cave and I knew I couldn't exist without sex. I tried to satisfy myself with my hand, but it wasn't it. My cave was accustomed to a good log inside, so she longed for a good log. But after a few years of living with one guy, I didn't want to find a replacement right away. But the constant thought of sex caused great unease, and I guess it was obvious to me. Just in the week my friend left, my colleague, with whom I shared my office at work, retired. Alisa, as my new colleague named, lived with a friend, and I quietly envied her that her cave was stretched. We soon became friends and she invited me to her coffee.