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bigger
Um, it looks like a penis, but bigger.
There was something so forlorn about it that I almost
cried.
The penis hung between the opened V of his fly and
rested on top of his bunched Calvins. He moved his hips from side
to side, and swung the penis for me, till it began to sweep from
left to right like a clock with a flesh pendulum. I'm not used to
being dumbfounded: it felt like laughing gas, but without the laughing.
I just stood there and let him get on with it.
"Look" he said, grasping and lifting "No
scars! The scar is here-" he reached out and grabbed my hand
- "under the pubic hair. It's V-shaped. Feel!'.
He pulled my hand towards him and 'accidentally'
rubbed it against his Congential Macro. The end was hard, round,
and hot; it felt a lot silkier than the rough skin of his fingers.
'Oy!' I said, trying to yank my hand free. I regained
possession of the poor hand - god know what kind of post-traumatic
stress it will experience after this - and politely requested that
he put his rig away. The Macro twitched before me like a dreaming
cat. I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and walked back inside.
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