tucking drag queens

Not enough. With just that amount it barely made it past the back of her throat.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

“There we go! I knew you'd remember!” She grinned wickedly, releasing my dick and using both hands to fiddle at the side of her skirt. It fell away, revealing an unbelievable, thick eight inch cock, springing ready and eager into the air! God damn! I'd never have guessed Ray, of all people, had a dick like that! If I'd known, maybe we wouldn't have picked on him so much. “All senior year, you and your jock friends thinking you were such hot stuff! Pinning me down, making me suck you off, calling me your sissy faggot bitch, just because I was a little bit effeminate, and wasn't into sports! Taking pictures of me doing it, blackmailing me, so you didn't even have to hold me down anymore! Making me come whenever you'd call! You have no idea how long I've been dreaming about this moment! But we're going to see who's the bitch now, aren't we Brian? Oh, yeah! We're going to see!”