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I watched her stride toward the light from the kitchen which propelled her shadow to the side wall near where we had danced. It made her look quite agile. My head throbbed and my back felt like it was broken.
Lights came on. I looked up at the table. Embossed on the bottom; ‘This table made especially for Wendifer K. Jeffries.’
Wendy returned to stand over me. The virginal hair was wet and matted. She glared down at my naked body.
My deflated cock sported the latex cover. It was rolling back on itself.
“Oh, Cotton!” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, why didn’t you tell me?”
She shoved the table aside and came to me, her tits covering my face.
“Where does it hurt? Do you need to go to emergency? Can I get you an aspirin? Oh, Cotton! I’m so sorry! What have I done?”
I turned on the car radio on my short ride home. There was a news report. Our schools team had lost 41 to 0. So had I. Wendy 1; Cotton nil.
[to be continued]
To Angelbaby whose vessel must be overflowing with commas. Thanks you!
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