. He seemed like a nice guy and wanted to repay me in some way for all I did for him. Now that we both seemed happy to be great future friends.. He ag...in made his offer for me to drop by his shop.. I told him I knew of the shop and would enjoy seeing what he had to offer... I am still having a hard time with this decision... should I tell my new friend my real age... and then he would maybe need to uninvited me.. or should I go with the flow and pass for the older man he believes me to be...... Nod if you understand, bitch."What could I do? I slowly nodded my head, agreeing to my fate.John stood up and started for the door, "That's a good little bitch". After stopping to scratch King's ears, he left and locked the door behind him, leaving me impaled on King's cock in the middle of my living room.I sat there on hands and knees, for at least another ten minutes, with my ass on fire and my stomach cramping from King's massive knot lodged in my intestines, thinking about how my life had. Really good. He didn’t want to stop.He pulled his briefs down a bit so he could curl his fingers round it, and gave it a little squeeze. It was hard not to gasp out loud. He looked critically at it: it was bigger than it used to be, but a lot smaller than Mr Whitaker’s. Still, it was the same shape at least, and if he squeezed the top of it it felt especially good.When he looked up again the scene on the lawn was still developing: Ella was now with Lettie and had her head between Lettie’s big. Things got fuzzy then. A basketball game on a giant television screen. The Lakers and the Clippers. Superman and Steve Nash. Talking to the leather pants fag in the bar. The ugly Pit Bull Man dragging the towel man with the stupid name away, at the end of a dog leash. Too unbelievable. Me, back in the small mirror room. Where the memory thing got fuzzy. Me in the mirror room with Stevie. Was I actually kissing the guy? On the mouth? Damn, he was such a girl. The lips, the face, the tongue, the.
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