“Hi, Trouser Snake.” Feather’s whisper interrupted my musings. In the semi-darkness, I couldn’t see her expression, but when she blew a soft puff of breath across my groin, my cock jolted at the sudden attention. “You’re a friendly fella, aren’t you?” She reached out and stroked the sides of it with her fingertips, giggling as it seemed to move on its own. I stifled a laugh. “Are you talking to my cock, Scrap?” She hummed an affirmative. “Who’d a thunk I’d be dickmatized so easily? That thing you’re carrying down there—and I’m not sure how you haven’t thrown out your back hauling it around all
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