Harry thought about sex almost all the time now.
The village was there when he needed supplies or alcohol or just someone to talk to. He ignored it whenever he could, preferring the hermetic life to the stares and whispers of the townsfolk. This was not his home and couldn't be.
But it meant that he hadn't had any sex in a very long time.
The old fantasies were all too old by now. He got increasingly creative, jerking off like it was an art form.
He closed his eyes, unzipped his pants, and slid his hand through the makeshift boxers, awaiting a suitably erotic image to touch his mind. He went through dozens - maybe even hundreds - before one suitably arousing comes to mind.
A slim boy with spikey blond hair, naked, eating a hot dog. Not just eating it, though; fellating it with his mouth. The fact that when he's finished the wiener is consumed does little to dampen its eroticism. The boyish grin on his face as he licks his fingers, altering the configuration of the splayed dark lightning tattoo ... his fingers running up and down the length of his erect penis as he invited Harry to perform similarly on it.
This was an extrapolation from a video game he played once a long time ago, back when he thought he was bored, back before he knew what boredom was.
As a matter of fact, it came from a sketch he'd doodled on the back of a notebook of a character from the video game. But it felt very real to him now, alone and half-crazy in his hut in the woods, as he jerked off. The line between real memory and old imaginings had gotten very hazy.
He wondered, after he finished masturbating, if all hermits get up to this kind of thing, and if he had finally gone completely mad.