You Just Don't Care...

“Oh, naw! I’m straight,” the slim, sinewy-built man replied matter-of-factly to revelation.
“What’s that got to do with anything,” cooed the milk-chocolate-complected vixen, playfully grazing the man’s hard chest.
“Damn, why you ask it like that,” he scoffed.
“Like what,” the sing-songy-voiced cutie inquired.
“Like that. All soft and girly and shit…”
“I can’t help it.”
“Oh for real?”
“No, sir!”

“Damn,” his eyes got big. “Shit,” he huffed. “I got a girl.”
“She’s not here.”
“You right. You right. But you ain’t no girl.”
“Well what am I,” the five-foot-nine, slender framed host stood.
“I ‘on’t even know for real. But you ain’t no girl for real.”
“Well, do I look like a man?”
“Hell naw,” he fondled the sissy’s hiney. “You got a li’l shape on you and…and you soft as shit.”
“I know,” shimmed the lipgloss wearing submissive one with a wink. “And you’re hard as fuck!”

“Oh shit,” he mocha-brown face reddened.
“It’s all good, daddy! You’re a man. That’s what you do!”
“True,” he capitulated almost instantaneously.
“If I’m the reason it got hard, I should probably take care of it, right,” purred the host.
“Oh,” he grunted with a primal stare into the sassy bottom’s soul. “What are you?”
“I’m a faggot.”
“Ooh shit!”
“You like that?”
“Hell yeah!”
“What should I call you, daddy?”
“That works..”
“Okay, Daddy! I’m Marlie,” the femboy replied, grabbing the man’s engorged manhood. “It’s so big!”

“I know,” he looked at Marlied intently.
“I’ll take good care of it!”
“You better, faggot! And you better not tell nobody.”
“I won’t tell. I promise.”

Marlie pulled down the gray joggers and examined the generously thick and long, two-tone cock.

Daddy’s heat seeker missile responded happily to the warmth emanating from Marlie’s mouth.

The faggot wrapped his painted lips around the pink head and swirled his tongue expertly.

“Oh shit,” Daddy jumped.
“You like that,” checked the dicksucker.
“Hell yeah! Ain’t nobody ever done it like that,” he confessed.