I couldn’t refuse her; I didn’t want to. She raised her hand and held it over the huge dick for a while before mustering up the courage to grab it... She folded her hand around as much of the fat pole as she could hold, squeezing it gently, then, as if burnt, pulling her hand away quickly. Her eyes looked as if she had smoked a joint, and she wet her lips with a nice pointy red tongue. “It’s a fucking beauty,” she whispered, apparently surprising herself as much as she surprised me, for she. “Go fix me a drink. You know what I like,” is all she says to me. I get up, wipe the wrinkles off my clothes, and saunter off to the kitchen. I pull a glass from the cupboard, add two ice cubes from the freezer, and grab the tequila—top shelf, straight—before pouring her two fingers worth and returning to the bedroom.She waits for me there, sitting in the soft chair in the corner of the room, her legs crossed, one foot bobbing up and down impatiently. I hand her the glass which she holds. More

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