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I leap up and rush to the restroom, yanking the door open. He’s standing in the middle of the room with a blank expression.
“Hey there, pretty boy,” I coo. “You can come out now.” He blinks a few times, but still looks dazed as he walks out. “Oh, that’s the other thing.” I turn toward Story, finding her watching him intently. “I think I can control him.”
“Have you tested it?” she asks, and I nod.
“I asked him to pull his pickle out this morning, and he did.”
“Yeah, but he wants to knock boots, so of course he did. Try something else. Tell him to fuck me.”
I nearly slap her.
“How dare you?” I screech. “You’re trying to steal my Highlander!”
“And deal with his very Highlander odor up close and personal? No, thanks. Just test it. Before he does anything, tell him to stop.” I twist my lips to the side. She has a point. The man needs a shower.
Desperately.
“Tongue punch Story’s stinkhole,” I mutter, my stomach dropping as he steps forward. His eyes are empty, his face blank. Reaching out, he runs his big hands over her curvy body. “Okay, stop.”
Immediately, he stops. “So, you can control him. How cool.” She circles him like a shark, her fingers tapping her chin. “Think of all the things you can do to him.”
“Like ride his fist until dawn.”
“Or let him flick your bingo button ‘til you cream.” I nod enthusiastically. I definitely like that one.
“Oh, oh. Or let him fuck my milk bags ‘til he gives me that creamy throat yogurt.”
My stomach rumbles at the thought, and I lick my lips.
“We have to go,” I breathe, grabbing his hand. He seems to come back to Earth and blinks a few times as he looks around.
“Ride that Highlander pony all the way to Squirt City!” Story cries as we rush out the door and hurry down the street, my clitty pulsing and hole gushing.
I’m so ready to fuck this man.
