On the right side of the screen were her vital stats, and I'm talking more than just height and weight. It listed details about her legs, ass, hips, w...ist, tits, neck, shoulders, eyes, mouth, and hair. How old she was (Melissa was 26). Her ethnicity. What languages she spoke. What her favorite foods where. They even provided relative ratings for the resilience of her throat, vagina, and anal sphincter! Based on that information and the size of my cock, I'd be better off fucking Melissa in her. I couldn’t wait to wear my tight cycling shorts, and ride ahead of Boston, knowing he was staring at my arse, as the saddle creaked. As soon as I saw his packed lycra crotch I wanted him. I flirted with him all day. For the first time that weekend I could see how everyone hated you. I’d never been so ashamed. That evening while you were in the bar with the others, losing all your money at cards, I was with Boston, in his room. In that tight spandex mini dress, and shiny chrome tights, I got you. More

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