“Pull me out,” he says, his voice strained, and I freeze, my hand still cupping his dick over his pants and my other clutching onto the comforter for dear life. He rolls his eyes when I don’t move, hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, and tugs them down. They stretch across his thighs as his cock emerges long and thick before me. I do absolutely nothing but stare at it. It’s humongous, and it’s making eye contact with me. “Go on,” he says, and I wet my lips, my mouth feeling extremely dry. My hand moves as if on autopilot, and I grasp onto him. It feels so fucking different.
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