“I think the word you’re looking for is big.”
She rolls her eyes. I’ve got the prettiest sort-of virgin in the world on her knees in front of me, my d**k in her face, and she’s rolling her eyes. My ego wilts a little.
My c**k doesn’t mind though.
“No,” she says slowly, “bumpy. Like here.” She runs a gentle finger up the line of one vein on my shaft and I let out a wounded hiss.
She looks alarmed. “Did that hurt?”
“No,” I manage. “Keep going.”
The finger returns and starts tracing a maddening path around all the places I’m ridged and swollen. She draws a map of my veins, she navigates the sensitive shoals of my frenulum. She meanders around the crown and over the leaking slit at the top. Her fingers drop down to my root, circling the base to measure me, and I register a nice
