. long . . . shaft . . . in my little mouth. Even if I wanted to. It wouldn’t fit. You’re so big. So hard. And that big bulging head of yours...wouldn’t go down my throat. You would choke me, for sure. Wouldn’t you? Even with your precum lubricating my throat . . . I’d be gagging on your cock. With your head throbbing in my throat. My eyes would be watering. And my mascara would be running."Tabatha removed her sunglasses. She had that intense gaze. Her eyes seemed darker. Her face. She didn't tell me everything.Marcy's mood was chipper and we never did return to the subject of her breakup with Press. Nor was anything more said about our failure to tell each other everything.We talked about classes starting soon and laughed about little things that had happened over the summer. Every so often Shirley would scoot across the floor and offer me a sip of wine from her glass, which had been my glass earlier.When the bottle was empty, we went to bed, Marcy on a sleeping bag in. More

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