Johnson leaned down and added his lips to her hopeful little pile of human tissue and transformed her mouth into a moaning, begging megaphone for her vagina.

Me, too.” Dove looked at him and smiled.

Johnson missed his mouth when he went for a sip of wine, so Dove passed him her napkin. He began to blush, stammering, “Sorry, your smile made me forget where my intake orifice was.”

All my orifices know where you are—especially the ones that grow hair.

Dove sat between his legs for a few more seconds, trying to come up with any feasible reason she could stay there.
I want to sniff his balls. Just once.

Dove tried to take her mind away from his man meat, but it was like her brain was paralyzed by dick osmosis. Johnson’s feet were big, which meant…
He has a monster cock.

He apologized profusely. “I knew that frog position was too freaky. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that, Johnson. Did you notice that like every third thrust I was like a virgin? That was my asshole.” Dove put a hand on his shoulder.

I don’t think one stalker is allowed to call another stalker a stalker.