“This is fucking good stuff,” she whispered in my ear, and her thigh pressed rhythmically against my slick pussy, “really good stuff.” “Oh f...ck.” You could say a lot about Tony, but not that he was one for unexpected philosophic recitations. “Listen, girls, as much as I would watch you two go at it, I’ve got work to do, and I need you out of here too.” “I want to rub your pussy until you come in the middle of the dancefloor,” I whispered back, suddenly feeling an all-encompassing need to please. Several weeks later, an even more exhilarating treat awaited me.One of the legends of the community was a man named Barry. Barry had the dick of death. Thus far, he had never got defeated at the bar in a cock contest. As he entered the bar, there was a murmur about this local, donkey dick celebrity.“I’m thirsty… Is there anyone prepared to take me on tonight?” Barry challengingly proffered in bravado.What astonished me was the excitement of the entire group of straight me in the pub. It was as. More

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