Realising his cock was surely ruined, I gave up and moved my hand down until I found his last testicle. To the touch at least it seemed in good shape... still nice and plump, warm, apparently intact. Using my thumb and forefinger to hold it in place in the sac, I moved my right foot carefully over the top, gently placing my heel on the centre of his ball. It took a few attempts to get it to stay in place as it seemed to want to ping out at the slighted opportunity, but I found that if I held it. My god, that thing was going to kill all of my pussy's nine lives. And I bet I was going to be enthralled in pure ecstasy in seeing all of them perish. I dribbled some spit onto the head and grabbed it. Fucking thing was thick, thicker than my own wrist. I picked it up and lay it across my palm. Fucking thing was heavy, too; one heavy piece of machinery. I stroked it and Salt said, “Please don’t do this. You’re married to my son.” I took my eyes off his cock and gazed at his face. I still. More

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