Studmuffin, Incorporated

I could feel the pressure building and knew if she came, I would not be far behind.

"Maria, I can't hold on much longer…"

"Aaaaieeeeee, I cum, Mr. Jones, I cum hard!" With that, Maria's whole body went rigid, and her pelvis quivered uncontrollably on my hard dick. I continued to rub her clit as she climaxed, stopping only when she reached down to pull my hand away. Her pussy tightened like a vice on my pole and I could feel it milking me unmercifully.

Maria jumped off me just as I was about to explode deep inside her and stroked my little shaft with her hand. Her mouth went over the top of my cock head, and her hot tongue licked and swirled and coaxed me to cum.

I came with a loud gasp and reached up to grab the headboard. Looking down, Maria was stroking my cock firmly with one hand, her other slipped between my legs and…

Sha-zam! Her index finger slipped deeply into my asshole just as I came, throwing me over the top. Her tongue lapped up my sperm and swirled my little, purple head. She licked up the droplets that had made it to my stomach and cleaned my cock until it glistened in the fading afternoon light.

Once I was spotlessly clean, Maria rolled over onto her back and sighed heavily.

"Meester Jones, thank joo. I needed that very mucho. Eez too bad joo will have a beeg cock tomorrow, no?"

****

At 9pm sharp that night, Doctor Witherspoon strolled into my apartment.

"Well, here we go, Mr. Jones. This time tomorrow you'll have a nice, big, thick penis. Are you excited?"

"Yes ma'am, I guess so. I mean, I should be, right?"

"For insurance purposes we need you to sign this last release form, absolving us of any responsibility before we proceed."

She held out a clipboard, and I swore I saw her eyes narrow.

I remember as a kid living in Atlanta there was a legendary black guy who hung out at Five Points, a trendy bohemian part of the downtown cultural scene. The man was known only as "The Horseman", and in my naivete I had no idea why he was called that. I thought it was a play on the name wolfman or something.

One day, a group of us were driving through that area and there he was, standing on the corner, waving to people as they drove by. The Horseman wore spandex biking shorts and was built like a fucking Shetland pony. His gargantuan cock obscenely traveled down his right thigh and practically poked out the bottom of his shorts leg.

People would honk and wave at him as they went by, and women would do double takes and just about rear end the car in front of them.

Would Wulfwinter 320 turn me into a Horseman? If it did, would it make my life any better? Or would I become like him, standing on a corner for all to gawk at as they drove by.

As a man, is my sense of self worth calibrated to the length of my dick? I used to think so, but my afternoon with Maria had sorta skewed my thinking. Maybe it wasn't me who was the problem. Maybe I just needed to find a woman who was happy with a small dick and my active tongue.

Doctor Witherspoon was still standing there, holding out the clipboard. "Well Mr. Jones? It's now or never, yes or no… which is it going to be?"

The End