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“He was really OLD. Probably at least thirty.”
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
“I was in bed with Bill Cromwell! I never, ever, ever in my wildest dreams thought such a thing could ever happen. This man was sex on two feet. He was a walking, talking wet dream come to life. And he was in my bed, one foot from my body, that was about to explode from pent-up lust and excitement. It was too bad men were so ruled by their dicks. They got us into so much trouble and made us make such horrible decisions half the time. They didn’t contribute anything to calculus exams or memorizing lines for a play, but still they wanted to rule the world and direct our every move, or at least the most dangerous ones.”
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
“And speaking of the next afternoon, getting through the eighteen hours between then and the next evening seemed to take absolutely forever. I don’t know if it was because I was super horny and couldn’t wait for the chance to get off in the company of my very own sex object, or if time did indeed slow to a crawl. Either way, it seemed like it took an inordinately long time to get to the point when school got out that afternoon.”
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
“Oh! My! God! The man had an ass that was a work of art! Holy sweet Jesus! I nearly came on the spot as he climbed the ladder steps built into the truck, thrusting his gorgeous ass nearly into my face. His jeans pulled tightly across his backside, and I probably could have counted the number of hairs on each butt cheek—if I hadn’t been one step from hyperventilating.”
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
― Don't Judge a Book by its Cover
