, I mean BOY; I'm a BOY!" I bellowedtrying to correct my momentary loss of sexual identity."You may be a 'good girl' but you certainly don't look like...a'boy' of any sort," the haughty bitch mocked. "Do boys wear brasand stockings and garterbelts? I don't think so! And as far as'good girl', do good girls go around without panties, showingoff their swollen clitties?"My countenance reddened from anger and embarrassment as Ibristled at her innuendoes. "Don't call me a slut," I fumed, myhands. He unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his briefs down to his knees and I sucked his dick. While I worked on his dick I let him guzzle one of my beers. To tell the truth, I don’t remember much about his dick or the sex. I’d say his dick was average size and the sex was just a run-of-the-mill blowjob. I do remember he had a big ball sack and smelled like a sweaty teenager. And when he came he sounded like he was gasping for air. When we finished I drove him back to the liquor store. No. More

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