Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
I love weiners. Cocks, penises, la queue. Whatever the polite name is, or the dirty one, the object remains the same. For me, it is the center of the world. It’s not just a casual interest; it is an obsession. I remember once, walking through the grocery store. List in hand, I paused in front of the thick packaged sausages. My friend, Élise, was with me. She asked, “Stella, why are you staring at the food?”
I didn’t answer right away because I was too busy looking at the weiners. It sounds silly, I know. A girl obsessed with hot dogs. But they remind me of big, fat, juicy cocks. My stomach was hungry, but that had nothing to do with lunch. This need is so intense! When I see a man, really see him, my eyes skip the face and I ignore the clothes. They go straight to the center of his pants, imagining the veins, the rough heat under there just waiting to fill up a girl like me. It’s an instant turn on!
