Darkness was all around as Jake left the saloon and walked through the dusty road down to his house and he couldn't help thinking of Hank. Hank clothed with nothing but a bottle of whiskey.
Jake couldn't even blame the whiskey any longer. He hadn't drunken anything during the last two days and this made it even worse.
After minutes of walking Jake had to stop. Where was he? His house was not far from the saloon, normally it didn't take him more then two minutes to get home even when he was totally drunk. „Probably I walked in the wrong direction!", Jake thought and sat down on the road. He didn't care any longer about his miserable situation, as his thoughts of Hank clothed with nothing but a bottle of whiskey were very arousing and his cock grewer harder and harder.
Jake couldn't think of anything but Hank and his cock. He began to stroke himself in the middle of the street, moaning „Hank" louder and louder. It didn't take long and Jake came screaming Hank's name into the darkness.
He collapsed on the dirty floor and wasn't able to stand up for a while. Some time later Jake pulled himself together and walked home. This time he found his house immediately.
Jake didn't realise why, as he hadn't realised that he walked once around the saloon and sat down on the road in front of it, where Hank (after throwing out his last guest Jake) smoked his last cigar for this night.