Mr. You Knew That Shit Was Small All Those Years I Wanted Your Ass

Back in junior high there was this guy. He was an artist and he was extremely quiet. I was intrigued by his quietness. He held my interest for six years. I was a geek back in the day, thick glasses, skinny like Olive Oil, braces… but even throughout junior high and high school we became and remained friends. We went to different high schools but since we lived around the same way we always saw each other. I’d always go by his house and we’d sit on the steps just shooting the shit as he teased me and I got mad (for like 5 seconds) and he’d just draw. He was extremely talented and I’d always have him draw me things. Hats, shirts, etc.

One summer a couple of years after high school I’d contacted him to do some work for me. I no longer lived in the same area as him so to get to him I had to take a JOURNEY from the Bronx to Queens on public transportation. Ugh. When I got to his house to pick it up, it wasn’t done!!! I was PISSED because I didn’t have the time to wait around because I knew he’d want to play around and not concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. He’d told me he was house sitting for someone he knew around the block so we went to this house around the corner. It was a brand new vacant house and the owner had wanted to make sure that no one broke in. We’d sat on the floor and listened to music while he finished drawing up my work. Before I knew it, I noticed him stop drawing and start staring with that lustful bedroom look that we all know about. Hey, I was with it. I’d dreamed about fucking him for YEARS. He crawled across the floor to me and put his face so close to mine that I felt his breath on me.

He’d always had a broad back, even in junior high. But eight years later his chest was bigger, his back more defined, his waist small. He was about 6 feet tall, 175 pounds. He was light skinned..YES..a redbone. That’s how you know this was back in the day because I don’t do redbones anymore. His eyes were almond shaped, eyes dark brown and those fingers….they were like artwork themselves. Long, slender, smooth….an artist’s hands. AND he was a lefty. Left handed people are usually very creative. I’ve had quite a few of those. His lips were wide and soft when he tilted my chin up to put them on mine.

Instant leakage.

I pressed my chest up against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had wanted him for SO long. I just KNEW he would give it to me right. In the time we were kissing each other he’d managed to de-robe me of everything I had on and him as well. All I knew is that my pussy was swollen and I was completely out of my mind because I was FINALLY going to have him!

The hardwood floor was cool against my back and he felt my body react to it as he slid our clothes underneath of me. I wasn’t as experienced then but I knew a few things and all I knew was that I was running out of patience and I wanted to feel cock in me.

He was on top of me and his breathing was becoming more shallow and quick. I felt his body pumping away but I couldn’t understand why he was taking so long to put it in, I was horny as all hell and was about to FREAK. He was still pumping away and all of a sudden he collapsed on top of me. He was out of breath and I was confused.

“Umm did you cum?”

“Yes” He’d said.

I still didn’t fully understand what had happened. Come to think of it I’d remembered a little tickle in my vagina but nothing more.

Then it hit me.

He had a pinky dick.

His dick was so small that I didn’t feel him inside of me.

I was in shock.

I couldn’t speak.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because so many years had passed and so many times I had thought about what it would be like with him. He had the nerve to try and fall asleep. Was he fucking KIDDING me? I woke his ass up so he could finish my artwork. He’d said “You might as well just stay the night because it’s too late to be in the streets at this time of night.” I realized that he hadn’t planned to finish it that night, but to finish it in the morning.

Fucking A.

I never got any sleep that night and as soon as the sun came up I woke him up to finish. He did and I’d given him a quick hug and left when it was done.

I had no plans on calling anytime soon because I felt it would take me awhile to get over this traumatic incident. I’d wished this had never happened to me and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. He called me a few weeks later and asked why he hadn’t heard from me. I didn’t quite know what to say other than I’d been busy. Years passed and he had two children.

*stare*

I wonder how THAT happened or what kinda pussy actually FELT that shit.

FAIL.

Has anyone ever had a pinky dick?