Henry locked the door, stripped off his shorts, and tossed them atop his T-shirt. He had the smallest cock in the school, he thought, barely 4” long...with a Guinness-sized hard-on. It agonized him, imagining himself with a girl: she’d laugh, even worse, giggle her head off while she tried to apologize. Of course, she’d tell all her friends.Truth was, Henry imagined his future lay with boys instead of girls: it didn’t matter how effing big your cock was if you never had to use it. Like the boy in. She had stopped a few feet away, and she had an odd, nervous look on her face."Listen, it's really nice of you to offer, Dave, but I don't want to be any more trouble."This was taking politeness a bit far, I thought. "It's no trouble, really — it's not even out of my way. Besides, it would take you an hour to walk from here." I moved to take her bike, but she pulled it protectively towards her."No, really, I'll be OK — I'll call a taxi. It was nice meeting you."I couldn't believe it — she was. "Thank you, David," she said, handing Amber the phone. "I have not talked to Dominique Spencer in ages." You're welcome," I said. "So is she going to take you up on lunch?" Even better, she's coming for dinner. Christine, would you put a note in David's calendar that we're having pot roast on Thursday? I'll be expecting you both promptly at six." Well, thank you, Doreen!" Christine said. "But are you sure you want us there? It sounds like you two have a lot of catching up to do." Well of course. After she has her drink in hand, she rotates the stool to look out over the bar and the small dance floor they have. She surveys the crowd, trying to see who is with whom. She is also making sure everyone in the bar gets a good look at the crotch of her jeans. She wants to show them what is available to the right person. She sat there leisurely sipping her drink when the first guy takes the bait. He slips onto the barstool next to her and strikes up a conversation. It doesn’t take long before.
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