Race Relations (Patreon)

They were gorgeous, alright. Definitely not the type who turned out to be ugly, who snuck it up on you with make-up or good lighting. They were fuckable, all the way down. Chad and Michael just sat there in the Corvette across the street, not looking at them head-on, but stealing glances with turned heads.

It was a nice neighborhood. Excellent, in fact. Chad owned a successful dentistry practice, while Michael had sold a novel that’d been adapted into a long-running TV series. The resemblance between book and show was almost coincidental, but nonetheless, the royalty checks had bought him a house with a square footage that sounded like a made-up number, right next to Chad’s own frajillion-acre plot.

They weren’t One Percenters or anything—this was still suburbia, a far cry from penthouse suites in New York—but if they were McMansions, they were still mansions, or manors at least. That put them closer to being in a single digit than it did to Occupy Wall Street.

It still wasn’t the kind of place you saw outright goddesses. Both were blonde, one with tousled, wavy curls that hung around her beaming face. The other had straight, golden hair that shimmered almost as bright as the red lipstick that made her mouth appear so incredibly luscious. Chad and Michael were almost gasping for breath, just seeing them talk to each other.

“Look at the fake blonde,” Michael said. “That ass… have you ever seen an ass like that?”

“Only on the other one,” Chad grinned. “Wait, which is the fake blonde?”

“On the right. Obviously.”

“Looks real enough…”

“God, I’d love to find out… how can she wear a shirt like that?” Michael went on. “Doesn’t it fall off?”

“Maybe if you say please.”

The blonde under suspicion had on an incredibly tight lycra top under an unzipped sweatshirt. The lycra clung unforgivingly to her enormous breasts, but there was nothing to forgive. Despite their size, they were perky as hell, not even needing a bra. And it was plain to see that, as it was unneeded, she wasn’t wearing one. They could make out the jutting outline of her nipples from all the way across the street.

It was almost as if they wanted the two men to see them. Their bodies were certainly shown off to good enough effect, though it was hard to imagine a pose they wouldn’t look good in, given what they wore and what they were wearing it on.

Michael had commented on the hair, but that was the only real contrast. They could’ve been twins, sisters at least. Both bodies voluptuous, with long legs, toned physiques, womanly hips, and firm asses. Chad didn’t know if he could spot a single edge one had over the other. Where one’s thighs looked warm and inviting, the other’s looked just as warm, just as inviting, but in its own way.

Well, either they’d heard them talking or they were just friendly, because the natural blonde came over. Chad leaned into it, rolling his window down. She leaned over, putting one hand on top of the Corvette, grinning and looking inside.

“Hi! How are you?” she asked. Her smile lingered, slow and buzzing, her breasts reaching out from her chest nice and big. They were firm, gorgeous, the shape of her nipples obvious in the cool January air. She wore a flowered halter with a fitted leather jacket on top, and a pair of skinny jeans which clung mercilessly to her legs, providing a tantalizing outline of thighs and hips, did the same all the way down to her ankles, then she was barefoot. Her toenails were painted.

Chad wouldn’t remember the color, though. Her breasts were too memorable. The halter was low-cut—the jacket hinting at just how much of her cleavage there was, then the halter revealing most of it. About all Chad couldn’t see were her armpits.

Michael was beside himself, unable to speak. The two of them were both in their forties, and not in the kind of shape to interest a pair of bosomy blonde twenty-somethings. Not even financially—these girls looked a cut above the sugar daddy type; more like something out of a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.

Chad answered for him. “People-watching. And you?”

“Being thirsty,” she sighed. She looked into the backseat and saw the twelve-pack of beer they’d brought. “That cold?”

“Freezing.”

“You mind?”

Chad reached into the backseat and into the cardboard container, pulling out a beer still cold from the store. The woman smiled at him as he did, leaning over a little more to reward him. “I’m Kate, by the way. Kate Upton. I’ve been in a few magazines.”

“The Fappening!” Michael cried out from his cold sweat, and Kate gave him a nasty look while Chad turned and gave him a disbelieving grimace.

Then he handed the beer to Kate, flipping the butt of the bottle flirtatiously against her bare midriff. She cooed at the cold and gave a smile that beckoned all the way down to her breasts. Chad had wanted to touch it to those, but that would’ve been just too forward.

“My friend back there is Charlotte McKinney. If you haven’t heard of me, you definitely haven’t heard of her.”

“I’ve heard of you both.”

Kate bit her lip. “Mind if I get one for her? We’re staying in the neighborhood for a shoot, and our agents didn’t set the place up with much in the way of supplies. The kindness of strangers is all we’ve got until our assistants get back.”

Chad turned around to see Michael was already handing him a bottle. He took it, handed it over, wondering if this time he should touch its chill to Kate’s breasts. The vibe she gave off wouldn’t allow it, though. She was gracious, but not that gracious—that last inch to an actual attraction was closed to him.

Kate held both beers by the bottlenecks in her left hand and extended her right to shake. “And you are?”

“Chad,” he said. “This is my friend, Michael.”

Kate gave him a supernova of a smile. “Nice to meet you, neighbor.”

Her hand felt quite warm on that nippy morning. She turned around and walked off, transferring one bottle to her right hand to hand to Charlotte when she got back to her rental house—Charlotte, her breasts nearly bursting from her lycra top as she leaned against the house, checking her phone, showing some video on it to Kate before she accepted her beer. Just like that, the two were off in their own rarefied world, the same planet as Chad and Michael but lightyears away.

Chad turned his key in the ignition and peeled out. Michael was recovering, putting up a solid babble at meeting THE Kate Upton, and protesting them going on their way, but Chad had found the whole thing dispiriting.

Twenty years ago, that hot bitch would’ve leaned up against him when she went in for the handshake, shoved her tits through the car window, invited the both of them to drink all that beer together. Now, Chad was harmless. Not seen as a threat in any regard, not even the threat of being a stranger. Like a dog with a leash on, he was fine to pet.

The notion that he might get one or even both of them into bed and know what to do with them probably hadn’t occurred to the two, and Chad couldn’t really blame them. It’d been a long time since he’d had a woman who could even dress those two’s hair. He’d been one more disposable, dispensable encounter to them, a starstruck fan who owned and delivered them awe—a cool drink in exchange for the mere sight of them, for a few kind words. It was a pisser, all right. Being rejected was one thing, but he’d never even been in the game! If anything, if they’d even noticed his flirtation, it would’ve registered as no more than cute.

He’d gotten up that morning, fetched his paper, and found something catching his eye. For some reason, when he opened the paper it was to the classified ads, and one little box had seemed aimed at him like a laser.

WANT A CHANGE?

READY FOR A NEW LIFE?

WANT A NEW LIFE?

READY FOR A CHANGE?

GO TO 504 MATTERHORN DRIVE

DR. AUGUSTUS GOTTLIEB’S ALL NATURAL MALE ENHANCEMENT

PILLS CHEAP AND RELIABLE

YOU’LL BE A NEW MAN

He’d dedicated his life to his work, building his practice, buying the house, the classic car, anything he wanted. Women he’d treated as trifles. Now he had the money, the life, but nothing to really apply it too. A fulcrum with no lever. How he would’ve enjoyed taking that skillet-hot babe on a ride in his car, a trip on his yacht, a weekend in his summer place.

But the thought of a woman like that only with him for his money was worse than embarrassing, it was emasculating. He wanted a chick who was addicted to his cock, who would be with him because of his youth and virility, and goddamn if he had a cent to his name. He wanted to pump her full of children and feel the milk in her tits when he played with them.

The ad had lingered in his mind—the kind of foolish nonsense you tried to turn into a funny anecdote. Now, being regarded as background noise, as scenery, he decided to hell with it. He would go through with it, drop Michael off wherever the hell he was going and get his ass to 504 Matterhorn Drive. He was going to grab life by the balls and show those girls a man.

***

The doctor was old and seemed sketchy, with wildly unkempt hair and clothes that looked slept in. But Chad had been around long enough to recognize genius in eccentricity. You didn’t get miracles from pencil-pushers, but from people who couldn’t comb their hair, tie their shoelaces. And the pills were cheap, at least by Chad’s standards. Fifty dollars got him a little amber bottle, filled to the brim with little poppers, and no child-proof lid either. He went home, popped one in first thing, then went to take a nap.

If there was one thing to despise about getting old, it was not having the energy to get through an entire sunshine without taking a breather.

His sleep was long and fine. He dreamt of Kate and Charlotte, appropriately enough. He saw himself on the lawn of their rented house, holding court with the two blondes, a beer in his hand like a royal scepter. Kate looked intensely into his eyes. Charlotte fondled her bottle.

“So, tell me about yourself, Chad?” Kate asked, putting a lilt into his name.

Chad breathed hard, aware of the powerful bellows of his chest pushing the bedsheet away. He was half-asleep now—something pulling him awake, but he swam for the dream, Kate smiling seductively, Charlotte licking her lips. He suggested a tour of the house.

They showed him the pool in back last. He suggested they go for a swim; Kate was already shrugging off her jacket.

“Do you have a suit?” he asked her.

She smirked; Charlotte giggled behind her hand. Kate threw the jacket at her and Charlotte caught it and put it on a pool chair. The jacket had hid a lot. Kate’s breasts were hanging out of the top, the bottom, and the sides of her halter. The sight of them made Chad particularly hot, and although the pool’s steamy waters looked inviting, he also notice that the lawn had the soft grass of a meadow, the perfect cushion for a fuck…

Almost literally, Chad jerked awake, half-hard. He was glad it hadn’t been a wet dream; under the sheet, his dick looked like a firehose. He could’ve whooped with joy. It’d worked. He felt more alert than he had in years, his body brimming with power. His cock laid flat on his leg and it looked like he had a gun in a thigh holster. Mostly flaccid, it looked around seven inches long, four inches thick… was that right? Who cared, it was big.

Chad pulled the sheet away and got his shock. The Twilight Zone twist, the big gotcha. It wasn’t his cock he saw. It wasn’t variation of his cock, not the hale and hearty member he’d remembered from college, not the big brother of his old cock that he’d assumed he’d find. No.

This was a black man’s cock, its prodigious length and dark flesh right out of a dirty joke, a white father’s fears, a Lisa Ann porno. It was big as hell, sure, a regular staff, but—African-American.

Chad just didn’t get it. He had nothing against black people. He’d liked the new Creed movie, listened to RZA in the car, had Ta-Nehisi Coates’s books on his shelf. Shouldn’t there be some ironic comeuppance? Wasn’t that how these things worked? Not that he felt wanting to be young and strong with a big dick was some sin, obviously, but it just didn’t seem to make sense. Had he traded karmic punishment with some Klansman who would’ve been horrified at this predicament?

Still pondering the narrative of this, Chad went to the mirror. Maybe, as some sort of punishment for wanting to fuck Kate Upton (again, Chad didn’t see how the universe at large could consider this a crime), he’d been given the young, fit body of a gay man and the black thing was just incidental? Phooey on him for seeing race? He tried thinking of Antonio Banderas naked. It did nothing for him. Then he recalled Charlotte McKinney’s tits. His cock leapt toward readiness like a teenager’s. No—all the wiring still seemed to be in order.

He looked at his reflection. As established, Chad wasn’t in the best position to judge, sexually speaking, but he thought he looked handsome enough. Tall and muscular, definitely. Still bald, but it was a good look on his new black body.

Well—to hell with it. He wasn’t going to complain. It seemed random and whimsical enough that a cheap pill had given him a body young and strong. Why, out of that chain of events, should changing race strike him as strange? He’d heard of comic books switching things around like that—turning white women into black women, men into women, straights into gays. Maybe this was some metaphysical counterweight to that, compensating for the shift in the cultural subconscious. Just as the heroes of stage and screen became younger, sexier, and sometimes darker, so had he.

He dressed, stymied momentarily by how his old, well-tailored clothes—meant for his frail white body—could not fit his new, muscular frame. But he found some workout clothes. The sweatpants and sweatshirt fit his powerful physique, even if it had to stretch to contain it, and his firehose cock was evident along his pantleg. Well, it was better than going naked, and would do until he could buy some new clothes.

Wonder if I’m allowed to buy FUBU now? Chad thought.

Satisfied with his appearance, he got his cell phone and went outside. A sudden urge to check his messages in the light of day. He wanted to show off his new physique, even if there was no one looking. It felt good to be out in the open and not shut up in his home. He turned on the camera in his phone, filming himself. As long as he was young, he should start putting everything on the Cloud, whatever that was.

“Excuse me, who are you?” It was Kate, elbows set on the fence between his yard and hers. “What are you doing over there?”

“It’s me, Chad.” He cringed; should’ve made up a name. What was a good black name? Something Wayans? “I’m Chad.” Oh well, there were plenty of people named Chad in the world. Wasn’t there a Spider-Man named Chad or something?

“I met Chad this morning,” Kate said. “He was white.”

“Different Chad.”

“Are you robbing the place?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you robbing him? Because you definitely don’t seem like the type he would invite over.”

Now that’s insulting to both of me. “I have a key and I know the code to the home security system.”

“So you’re a good burglar. That’s no surprise. Otherwise, you’d be in jail.”

“Do you have a problem with me?”

Kate did that little head-wobble that seemed to be taught in Bitchy Girl University. “My problem is that when my management dumped me in this subletted cesspool, I didn’t know my shit would get stolen. They said this was a nice neighborhood. Lots of nice, quiet people who wouldn’t give me a hard time!”

“I’m giving you a hard time?”

“Listen, you just stay on Other Chad’s property, doing whatever it is you’re doing, because if you come over here, I’m going to Mace you.”

Chad guffawed in disbelief. “This is because I’m black!”

“Oh, I bet you always say that. Is that why you don’t work a real job or why you listen to sexist trash music, because you’re black?”

Chad’d had about enough. He held up his phone from where it’d been held at his hip. “How about I just post this online and we see what the Net thinks about all this?”

He saw her aggressively snide expression suddenly collapse into a horrified imagining of what that would bring. “Whoa now… you know I didn’t mean any of that like that. If you post that out of context… do you know how hard it is to be a woman, trying to get ahead in a man’s world?”

“That’s what you think will get me to delete this video?”

Kate looked him over consideringly. “What will get you to delete that video?”

“Come over to my place and I’ll show you.”

Kate bit her lip, thinking it over. Her eyes darted down once more. “Sure. Just to show that there’s no hard feelings over our misunderstanding. Why wouldn’t I come over? I don’t believe in any stereotypes or anything like that.”

“I don’t know about that,” Chad said. He could feel his cock stiffening, and was pretty sure Kate could see the same. “Some stereotypes can be pretty damn true.”

***

A basketball held under her arm, Charlotte went through her house, her miniskirt swishing around her ass like a wisp of smoke liable to be dispelled at any moment, her tight white cami pulled away from her belly by her large breasts, which strained the cotton garment near to translucency. Not the most comfortable garb to shoot some hoops in, but she was going to be playing against Kate, not the Chicago Bulls, and the paparazzi they’d called would love it.

Unfortunately, Kate had disappeared. Charlotte checked out back, wondering if the idiot was getting some last minute sun, working up some photogenic sweat, but no dice. Where the hell was she? She’d virtually vanished into thin air.

Charlotte heard something strange then. A shuffling sound. And it was coming from next door. Accompanied by a high-pitched, feminine moan.

If that stupid bitch had gotten high and wandered into the fucking neighbor’s house, Charlotte would kill her. But first, she’d sober Kate up and play a goddamn game of one-on-one with her for TMZ. The modeling contract had been very clear. They had to keep their names in the papers while the ad campaign ran, and that meant being photographed in whatever barely plausible state of undress could be arranged. They’d already been photographed working out together, and getting lunch in tiny miniskirts with their legs crossed.

The hints of lesbianism were up next—Kate bringing her hot chocolate out on the patio and licking some whipped cream off her finger. Honestly, the shit talent agencies came up with. It was like they thought the whole world was a porno just waiting for lube. After all the effort she’d put into her hair and make-up, the last thing Charlotte wanted was for something wet and sticky to be anywhere near them. Not to mention the smell would wreak havoc on the new perfume line she owned and wore.

Listening intently, Charlotte snuck from one backyard to the other. The sounds were definitely coming from inside the house; Kate’s voice crying out, mewling, God, what was she doing? Charlotte hugged the wall to the backdoor, a sliding glass contraption. She moved to let herself in when she saw what was past the glass.

It was Kate all right. Her naked body spread out right in the middle of the floor, legs stretched wide and invitingly before some black bodybuilder. Charlotte gasped as she watched his muscles bulge powerfully, working his huge cock into the woman sprawled on the carpet beneath him.

Charlotte watched through the door, breath issuing from her so hot that it fogged the glass, as he bent over Kate, running his mouth wetly over her curvaceous body, sucking her heaving breasts into quivering excitement, drawing his moist tongue up her jerking throat to her soft, round lips.

Kate ripped her swollen lips away from his harsh kiss, moisture making them cling together momentarily. “Stop it, stop it—fuck me already! Fuck me now!”

“You sure?” the black man asked her in a soulfully deep voice, lightened with a taunt. “Maybe I can find you some white guy to come fuck you instead. You prefer that, massa?”

“No, no, I’m glad it’s you, Chad!” she said huskily. “It’s so much more exciting having you fuck me, you black bastard!”

Charlotte stared at the writhing pair, shocked by the sheer explicitness of what they were doing. They were barely inside the house they were fucking in. She knew she should leave, but some deep and intangible feeling within her kept her feet glued to the floor. She couldn’t understand what the sensation was, what she desired from seeing them like this, but she had to fulfill it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she had to gulp down the mortification she felt and see this through to the end.

She gave a sharp intake of breath, seeing Kate’s fingers claw like a blind woman’s at the carpet beneath her. Charlotte continued to stare, overcome by repugnance and, more and more, a wicked excitement. It occurred to her that Kate really did have a beautiful body—as good as hers, even—and there it lay, offered up like a human sacrifice to this man Charlotte had never seen before. And he accepted it readily. Kate evidently had no regrets; her mouth hung open in ecstasy at fever pitch, her baby blues glazed, intent on nothingness.

Charlotte watched, horrified at both the thought of what a wreck that cock could make of Kate’s pussy, and at her own growing curiosity. Chad’s buttocks tightened as a quick downward thrust of his hips sunk him even deeper into Kate’s gaping channel.

“Yes, yes, yes…!” Kate babbled, rolling her head wildly from one side to the other, as if in denial of being able to take such a large cock. “It’s in me now, I’ve got it in me! I took it! I took ittttt!”

But there was still more to come. With a slow, rocking motion, Chad’s huge instrument began to inch more of itself past Kate’s straining vulva, down to her deepest depths. She pumped her buttocks rhythmically up at his crotch, pulled to him like a magnet, sucking him further and further inside herself.

A resounding slap of flesh against flesh sounded, cutting through the air as Chad began slamming himself into Kate, answering her body’s urgent motions. She let out a gurgling moan, unending as the feeling of the penetration spread through her senses, her body quivering with jolts of electric sensation.

“Come on, that’s it,” Kate urged the black man, her voice rushing out of her. “Pump it faster, pump it, faster, FASTER! Ohhhh—so big, SOOO BIG!”

Chad grabbed hold of her leg in a big hand, pulling it up Kate’s body, then pushing it against her chest—opening her up wider for his frantic pumping. The sight of the two writhing bodies before her filled Charlotte’s body with a strange, powerful tingle. It lapped at her groin, harder and hotter, like something only getting started, only just awakening.

Charlotte unconsciously stiffened, trying to smother the desire, but although she commanded herself ever more firmly to walk away from the lewdness she was witness to, the force keeping her still only became clearer and more defined. It was a raw animal urge, a need, a hunger, it had to be fed, and all it wanted, all she wanted was to keep watching the gyrating bodies brimming with sweat on the floor.

Chad was now practically beating Kate’s own thigh down against her tits with every vigorous thrust. “Yes, yes, give it to me!” Kate urged him, her slurring voice reflecting the intense pleasure she was receiving.

Charlotte’s hands crept, almost subconsciously, up the thin cotton top, to the warm, damp space where the material became a sweaty prison for her straining white breasts. She kneaded and pulled at the quivering mounds, trying to relieve the pressure surging through them. It was stimulating and painful in equal measure, and touching herself made her feel so much better and so much worse.

To her horror, she felt droplets of moisture between her legs, spreading down her thighs. A soft, tormented moan escaped from her dry lips. Now she was groping her breasts more to keep herself from touching the wetness between her legs than for the relief it gave her.

Chad and Karen were as close as Charlotte’s fingers were to her breasts, their bodies wildly entwined, a kudzu pattern of black and tanned flesh, flailing limbs blurring together. Kate gave a lurch and scissored her left leg up to join her right, begging Chad to take hold of it with bitten lip and depraved, pleading eyes.

He took it in hand and virtually ground it against her chest, pounding into her now as if she’d lost all defense, as if she were nothing more than a hole designed for his cock. Charlotte could see her arousal building to the point of explosion, tormenting Kate, just within reach but not quite there. Kate screamed, grinding her hips savagely against Chad’s heaving body, putting all of herself into the search for her orgasmic completion.

“Fuck me harder, fuck me harder!” she cried, straining her voice to the limits.

Chad’s hands choked her ankles, pushing them down beside her throat, and drove his lunging cock deeper and harder into the raving woman’s open cunt with swift, brutal strokes. His hairy balls smacked heavily against her upturned ass. They were leaving a bruise.

“Oooooohhhh!” Kate groaned, bent in half but finally nearing her fulfillment, completely subjugated to the fucking of her soft, tender sex.

At the same time, Charlotte noticed the sadistic grin sketching Chad’s full lips as he sensed Kate’s desperate yearning—how could he not—and decided to tease her longer, make her really feel her own raging need for what he and he alone could give, make the agony of waiting for it that much harsher.

And so he slowed, relaxed, stilling his cock inside Kate and simply enjoying her tightening spasms around him, her yearning pumps against his impalement of her, the feel of her soft flesh against his own.

“Come on, Chad, come on!” Kate pleaded, her lips quivering rapidly with pent-up need, her words almost stuttering out of her. “I can’t wait any longer, I can’t! Please fuck me! I’ll die if you don’t fuck me, I’ll die, fuck me, I’ll die, fuck me, fuck me—“

Smiling even wider, tremendously enjoying the total lack of pretense in the power he had over this woman, Chad rocked himself back and forth, making a slow circuit of her drenched groin, dragging his member over her sex-starved clitoris. Ultra-sensitive. Engorged with blood.

“Aaaaaaaah!” Kate cried, her jaw practically unhinging to deliver her announcement of ecstasy. She closed her eyes and nodded her head convulsively, completely destroying her carefully maintained hairdo, letting loose a mass of golden follicles on the floor like a dam had broken.

“You really want my cock, don’t you?” Chad asked, making another neat tour of Kate’s womanhood. “You really do need it.”

“Yes, yes… YES!” Kate said in wild agreement. “Yes, I want it, yes, I need it, yes, shove that big black cock of yours all the way up my cunt! Need it—need you fucking me—need you, need your cock!” she implored, abject desperation.

“Shit, I almost think you really would die if I didn’t fuck you real bad.”

“I will, Chad, I will, I’ll die…!” she answered gaspingly.

“You need me, your body needs me, the two of you need to be fucked and by me.”

“Yes, yes, you, your cock, I need it all so bad!”

“Then don’t you ever forget that!” Chad barked, as though passing sentence on an unruly prisoner. “You haughty white bitch, you want a black man? You’re gonna have one, then! I know what a cunt you are, but let’s see if you’re cunt enough to take this black prick all the way up that pink little bitch body…”

He reached down under Kate, joining his hands under her body, and pulled up so she was jammed against him, his tool brutally plunged inside her, buried to the hilt between her legs.

“YES!” Kate breathed, twisting her body violently with her long-awaited fulfillment. His titanic cock seemed to touch a tender spot somewhere in her belly, connecting with a live wire that filled Chad’s plundering manhood, and Kate’s oversensitive body, with blissful currents of electricity. She was wracked with violent convulsions, speared and hollowed like a puppet on Chad’s manhood, coming desperately within his firm grip.

The flesh beneath Charlotte’s downy pubic hair felt white-hot where Charlotte touched it, giving a spasmodic jerk when her fingers grazed the hood of her clitoris—a hot coal in a flaming pit. It felt like someone else’s body, someone else’s feelings. The strong sensation grew as she stared at Kate with a feeling of shame that still barely tainted her overwhelming excitement, watching the white woman come on a black cock. And come hard.

Chad waited until her face was slack, her eyes unfocused, her mouth dangling open, before he gave a guttural groan and came inside her as well, a jet of thick, scalding seed that flooded her cunt to capacity.

Then he set her down, her limp body flowing off his cock, his cock pulling out in a wave of white semen. Exhausted, spent, drained of all strength, Kate wheezed as if she were having an asthma attack. It seemed like there would never be enough air to fill her lungs.

Grunting, Chad pried himself off her and the floor, walking around her sprawled body and kneeling down at her head. There, he laid down his still-hard cock on her flushed face, favorably comparing its length to the distance from her hairline to the point of her chin.

“Hey Kate,” Chad asked, “why the long face?”