He tugged my zipper down like he was unveiling a gift, spreading my pants open. “Yeah. There it is. You have a nice fat dick. I would have never guessed it." “I’m Italian,” I said inanely.
Warning: This book contains graphic language, sex, lies, intrigue, clowns, kleptomania, anal sex, oral sex, mutual masturbation, bad driving, good cooking, and the missing head of a Justin Timberlake statue. Not for the sour of disposition.
