I bet you think your dick is great … well it's NOT! It's a tiny, little
peepee. I've eaten french fries BIGGER than your puny little pecker. And I
KNOW you touch it a lot, just like you're doing now, diddling your dick in
the corner, how PATHETIC!!! But I don’t understand is when you reach into
your zipper, how long does it take you to find the fucking thing?
I have to go out now and find a REAL man to satisfy my appetite
for good sex -- someone whose dick I can wrap my hand around and several
inches of it still sticks out beyond my fist. A real man wouldn't let me
make him wear my panties, like I make you, and you do it because you know
just how big of a sissy asshole you are. I need a man who knows what to do
with his cock, someone who won't be a waste of my time, someone who WON'T
dribble out his cum, someone who can keep it HARD for more than 2 minutes,
and most of all, someone I don't have to PITY fuck or FAKE my orgasms for.
You lick the cum out of your panties after you leak out your sissy juice;
no real man would let me do that to him. I bet you even like the taste your
own cum. I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you: I'll let you watch me
FUCK another man and then ALLOW YOU to lap up his cum out of my pussy, how
does that sound? You can eat up all my CREAM and his. That is as close to
my pussy as you will ever get. I bet just the thought of it makes your dick
hard! Maybe, just MAYBE, if you're a good boy and clean off my lover's cock
too, I'll fuck your ass with my new strap-on. You'd like that wouldn't you?
It's My Fault That My Wife Went Black
On her next night out, Ellen got back a little after midnight. I was
awake in bed as she undressed quickly and got into bed in just her bra and
panties. I asked her tentatively if she had a good evening. "Why don't you
check for yourself," she replied, taking my hand and placing it on her pussy.
Her panties were drenched with cum. "You've been fucked," I gasped.
"Nothing gets by you, does it Sherlock?" she sneered.
"Who was it?" I inquired, my voice shaking.
"All you need to know is that he is black, 20 years old, bigger
than you in every way and is better in bed than you could be in your wildest
fantasies. So if you are thinking of asking me to stop seeing him, forget
it," she told me cruelly. "You won't be fucking me at all while
I am seeing Ben. It would be disrespectful to him if I let you anywhere near
my pussy while he owns it." She laughed contemptuously at me, "Take a pair
of my panties and pull yourself off in the bathroom if your little dick needs
it." She knows how much I appreciate when she's dressed in fine lingerie,
and I realized a pair of her panties was probably going to be as close as
I would get to her pussy for a while, so I did it. Most troubling to me is
that while I pulled on my penis, all I could think of was this Ben guy fucking
her, and I only wished I had been there to witness it! The idea was disgusting
to me, but exciting at the same time. I thought about little else at work
the next day, having to go to the bathroom a number of times to relieve the
pressure. I only wished I had pocketed that pair of my wife's panties so I
could use them to intensify my pleasure during those sessions.
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