Magic stick. Pleasure rod. Girth Vader. Pipe cleaner.
Lip splitter. Womb raider.
No matter what you call it, you know you’re thinking about it when you see me. You’re licking your lips at my 12 inches. Filled with rippling power ready to shoot you to paradise.
Most women – they can’t get enough of it. They swoon when they see my bedroom eyes. They sigh when they feel my 8-pack abs. And then they touch the hammer head. And it’s all over.
But what happens when it doesn’t work?
When the woman, Cara Lynn, pretends that she doesn’t give a plugged nickel about my trouser rod.
When the game that I spit falls flat?
Usually I move on. But somehow, I’m drawn to this alpha female like a deer to headlights.
Thing is, I know she’s pretending to not care. She’s teasing me. Tempting me.
She’s testing me.
Well, darlin’… two can play at this game.
She wants to play head games? It’s a good thing that I have more than just the one on my shoulders.