Last night I went out clubbing with some of my gal pals. There was this group of guys swarming around us like vultures. They kept telling us they had what we needed. They were investment brokers. All drove BMWs, wore Rolexes and were buying bottles of Cristal and paying with their American Express gold cards. I can see through that kind of over compensating behavior. I married money. I drive a Lexus. I have expensive jewelry. I don’t want for anything. Expect big cock. These guys had hit my ceiling for annoying. I mean if a guy is stupid enough to spend all sorts of money on me and my girlies buying us drinks and shots, well that is his problem. Spending money is not a guarantee of sex. The only thing that guarantees a guy gets to fuck me, is a big cock. Talking 10 inches of pure hard meat means we going to fuck. 8-9 inches of thick meat is a pretty sure thing, but not a guarantee. Anything under 8 inches, well you ain’t getting shit from me, but giggles.
These dudes were trying to get us to go home with them. So, I chimed in. I explained, if we were going to go home with them, we needed to know they could satisfy us. I instructed then to line up and pull their cocks out from largest to smallest. They thought I was kidding I insisted that if we didn’t see the goods then no fucking. Well, they whipped out their peckers and just as I thought worthless. Biggest one was 5 inches at best. My girlies and I giggled. I thanked them for the drinks and suggested they buy some panties for their little girly pee pees. They looked dumbfounded.
I do not get why guys with small peckers think they can fuck me? I don’t need anything from a guy but a big hard cock. So let me be clear again, the size of your dick depends on how he play. So if you call me and say you got what I need, you better be packing serious heat or your pecker doesn’t get near me. Be prepared for laughter and humiliation if you lack what I require.