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He was too tiny to matter. He stood there, naked, trying to act confident. Poor thing. I watched his tiny dick twitch like it was begging for attention — but all I could do was laugh. “That’s it? That’s what you wanted me to get excited over?” I stepped closer, towering over him in my thigh-highs and heels. “You brought a toothpick to a sword fight.”
His cock — if I can even call it that — bobbed like it had something to prove. I circled him slowly, dragging one finger down his chest and across his soft stomach. Then I stopped, looked down, and tapped it with my fingernail. Just once. It bounced. I laughed harder. “You’re hard already, aren’t you? From this? From being mocked?” He moaned. I hadn’t even touched him properly. Just words. Just the humiliation of standing there like a useless little thing with a cock that couldn’t even fill a condom tip.
I pushed him down onto the floor. “Lay back. Let me get a closer look at this disappointment.” I straddled him without touching it, grinding just above him, never letting him feel my skin. “See this?” I whispered, dragging two fingers down Continue reading “Too Tiny to Matter”
