“You want to tie me up so I can’t hurt you, Mr. Grey?” What is she talking about? I briefly think about how I ended up knee deep in baby’s finger and tepid conversation when it occurs to me that I have a vein in my cock with her name on it. I’m going to return the favor by tattooing her cunt with my machine gun dick and ink bullets all over the fucking place. First, I have to shut her up. “Yeah, I don’t want you to hurt me because my mother was...” I hand her my dick “here, put this in your mouth and suck like it will get you out of an all girls prison camp.” She tentatively grabs it and I feel like smacking the uncertainty right off her face. This would never happen in Poland. I have to tell myself “calm down C-man, she’s just a sexual baby and you are going to have to wipe her ass until it bleeds to break her into this world, then you can fist her bloody asshole, buy her an Audi to match and hope your love is enough to...” OH-uh! Holy shit, I can feel the top of her stomach! This baby doesn’t have a gag reflex. I can’t buy this kind of luck- well, who am I kidding? I’ve bought a dozen little people to carry me around my house on Christmas. I can afford a bottomless pit like this- uuuuh oh, it feels exquisite! Even better than all those strong tiny hands pressed into me by the weight of my own, glorious body. The head of my penis is in her throat like an aspiring model with a toothbrush and I am about to catwalk all over this runway, baby.
[To Be Continued...]
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