My cock — fully hard now, ten inches of thick, veined flesh — hung heavy between my thighs. The head was dark, swollen, already leaking pre-cum. I wrapped my hand around the base. Stroked once. Twice.
Bella's eyes found it. Her pupils dilated. She swallowed.
"It's too big," she whispered. The words were automatic — she said it every time. Like a ritual. Like a prayer.
"It's ten inches," I said. The same response. The same game.
"It won't fit — it never fits —"
"It always fits."
I stepped forward. My cock bobbed in front of her face, the head brushing her lips. She flinched. Then leaned forward. Her tongue — small, pink, cat-kin rough — darted out and licked the tip. The texture sent a jolt through my spine. I groaned.
She took the head into her mouth. Her lips stretched around the girth, her jaw straining. She could barely fit the first three inches before her eyes watered and she gagged, pulling back.
"Too big — I told you —"
"Take your time."
