She said it looks like a salami, pointing at my cock, as I came back into the room, with the morning coffee, and a plate of hot cross buns lathered in strawberry jam. My cock was sore and slightly raw from a night of fucking. Even now my cock was still erect, sticking out like a salami ready for the chop. I was proud of my cock, and didn't take offense at her observation. It was an honest appraisal of my meat. I get excited when I am with a new fuck, and my cock raises like a drawbridge even when I am not fucking. I climbed into bed beside Caroline, pushing my erect cock to one side, so the breakfast tray would sit on my lap unimpeded. We sipped on the coffee, and enjoyed the buns.
Out of nowhere she said to me "Why don't you put on my nylons. I would love to see you in them."
What nylons I thought. I couldn't remember if she wore any last night. I was fairly pissed, and in a bull charge for her cunt. I met Caroline down at the Boat Club on the Nelson shore. We danced to the music and immediately clicked. I grabbed her by the hand and we headed back to my place. Within ten minutes I had her stripped and was busy fucking her ass off. There was no blow job because I was wearing a Prince Albert, and she was scared of hurting her teeth.
I looked to the side of the bed and could see the nylons scrunched up in a heap. Yep, I was into it. I hopped out of bed and began to slide the black nylons up my leg. They came to waist height. You could see my erection, faultlessly shaped, through the sheerness of the material.
