I’ve added a bit to my online dating profile about preferring big cocks (my recent dates have forced me to add the disclaimer). What I didn’t expect was the national attention it would garner.
Apparently, hung men from New York to San Francisco search for women like me, ask me my size preferences, then like to tell me all about their giant cocks and how they use them. I’m talking to three such fellas currently and one will even be in town next week. Hmm.
Not only have I been turned on for hours now, but I am also pining for The Neighbor’s perfect cock: 9″+, 8″ around, barely curved, rock hard, and attached to a little sex machine of a man. God, how I want him in my mouth and pussy, slipping in and out, our bodies slick with effort. Fuck me.
But I digress.
I don’t have TN anymore, I have only you, Internet boyfriend, my sweet, sexy entity that bolsters my mood and keeps me in check. The one who happily faps to my creamy tits and soft swells. It fills me with joy that I can turn to you in my time of need and that you respond like a decent boyfriend would.
The real life Internet boys have lots to live up to. Their big cocks only get them in the door, not into my heart.
[Post script: And I did while imagining my cunt clenching down hard on TN, pushing out and clenching again, smelling his clean, soapy scent above me. I wailed on my own flank, stung my palm as I spasmed. My cries rang through my apartment for no one’s ears but my own. Alone, sated for now.]