The walls are closing in on me. I can't breathe. I need this line to start moving. Move, bastards. Move! Don't these people know that I'm on a very tight schedule? If I don't get back to my apartment building within the hour and pay my rent I may be forced to perform one of the most desperate and depraved sexual acts ever created by man. I may be forced to dine on Bulgarian taco.
Her sensual act makes my cock so hard I am fearful it may explode and spray all over her face. Frantically, I rifle through my bank slips. Do I have them all? Did I forget to fill one out? Nope, everything is in order. Time is of the essence. I pull out my Pac-Man pocket watch to see how much time I have left before the putrid feast begins. I have exactly 52 minutes before the rent or my ass is due. I must not fail. As I slide the watch back in the pocket of my skin tight black spandex shorts I am distracted by the shine on the black marble floor. How is it possible to make floors shine like that? Maybe I'll ask the teller when I get to the front of the line. That will be a great way to start a conversation.
My reflection gleaming in the freshly polished black marble floors captures my attention. My mind begins to wander and I am faced with the question of why almost all females known to civilized society find me unattractive. From what I can see I am a very sexy piece of ass. I may have a few faults here or there, or maybe even a few more faults than most, but come on, who doesn't.
Glancing up from my misunderstood beauty I experience the brief pleasure of making eye contact with the sexy brunette teller who awaits my slips. She is gorgeous. "I would give anything to tap that ass," I whisper under my breath to help boost my spirits. If I remember correctly from past visits, and my freakish ability to eavesdrop undetected on other people's conversations, she goes by the name Sholanda, and she is vegan. Normally I could care less about another person's choice of eating habits but there is one question I may have to ask her.
Do vegans swallow?
I hope they do because I could not bring myself to have a relationship with a woman who would refuse to swallow my manly goodness. Yeah, it may make me sound superficial, and in some circles a prick, but even a master masturbator like myself has to have a few standards. The line finally moves and I am lucky enough to take two wonderful steps forward before coming to a halt. Wow, if we continue to move at this rate I may get to see my favorite teller just before Christmas. This snail's pace is beginning to tax me; I must figure out a way to get to the front of the line, but how?
The surrounding body heat compiled with the slow, rhythmic ticking of my watch begins to transport me into a relaxing trance; the room becomes a blur, my head leans back, drool drips from the corner of my mouth, I can barely keep my eyes open…
…all I can feel are the plump hot lips of Sholanda, the overly sexy bank teller, kissing my thighs as she makes her way up to my yearning cock. I look down just as her lips meet my balls. Her hot breath and darting tongue cross under my drooping sac. Her sensual act makes my cock so hard I am fearful it may explode and spray all over her face. She takes my ass cheeks with her soft hands and pulls me close. Our eyes meet; she licks her lips and opens her mouth wide. She forcefully grips my ass and tilts her head back. Her head slowly comes forward; she is positioned perfectly to engulf my entire length…
I slowly place my bank slips on the counter and mumble, "Me need money. Me no like eat Bulgarian taco." My sensual journey is rudely interrupted by the cackle of a withered up prude standing next to me. "Oh my gosh, look at that pervert!" Her hiss echoes through my head, dispelling my X-rated fog. As my eyes open wide I am greeted by the sight of everyone in the bank staring right at me. They all have a look of pure shock on their faces. I follow their eyes down to my crotch and to my amazement there before me stands a picture of erection perfection. My pants are at attention and I find that I am pleasantly proud of this achievement. I never really knew how big my member was until this embarrassing moment.
After coming to the realization that I have a huge cock, I determine that the whole world should know this so I graciously place my hands on my hips and lean back while pushing my pelvis out. The tension in the air is palpable and it soon begins to choke me. I guess no one else here is as proud of my boner as I am. I quickly formulate a plan to decrease the tension. I yell in a broken voice, "It's not my fault. I'm…I'm special needs. My employer says so. I have a card." As I rifle through my pockets desperately searching for the proof of my disability, I notice that the looks on the faces in the crowd turn from shock into ones of complete pity. The line divides and I am escorted to the front by a little old lady who says to me in a patronizing tone, "Here you go sweetheart. You go first. We all don't mind. And don't worry about your hard pee-pee. No one even noticed it anyway."
Sholanda greats me with a smile and a wink, then sweetly asks with her beautiful southern drawl, "What can I do for you sweet thing?"
Her voice paralyzes every piece of my being except for my cock. My cock appears to be its own entity. I slowly place my bank slips on the counter and mumble, "Me need money. Me no like eat Bulgarian taco."
She gives me a look of confusion and begins to process my transaction. To my amazement I have enough money in the bank to pay my rent. It's a miracle! Praise Mary's ass!
Sholanda hands me my liberating funds and asks if there is anything else she can do. The excitement of not having to eat Bulgarian taco for survival provides me with enough courage to ask her the question of the day, so I confidently reply, "Why yes, yes there is. You can answer a question that has been on my mind recently…. Do vegans swallow?" Her response is swift and definitely on target. I didn't know people were allowed to slap mentally retarded guys across the face for asking simple questions. What the hell is this world coming to?
Her strong hand makes me wonder if she will put out in the near future. Since she didn't spit in my face or call the police, I remain pleasantly optimistic.
Twenty minutes later I am back at my apartment. To my surprise Miss Rottencrotch is waiting for me in my parking stall. It takes all my strength not to run the beast over. I quickly jump out of my car and present my rent to her. Her gruesome smile turns to a frown. "I was hoping you would be late. I greased up my ass so I could slip and slide over your face. I guess I'm going to have to wait until next month." She blows me a pork rind smelling kiss and walks away.
That's right, keep walking. ‘Cause I'm going to have the rent next month and the month after that. You ain't never gonna have a piece of this ass. Never.
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