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He Took Another Condom From His Right Pocket

Transgressive Thursday

It’s a murder mystery, and I’m ready to suck some dicks to solve it.

We were in what I thought was his apartment, “what’s next?” he asked, taking out a condom from his left pocket.

“Certainly nothing that will involve this condom,” I replied. “It’s banana flavored, and I hate the taste of bananas.”

“Oh,” he blushed. I didn’t think of using it for sexual purposes, but we could fill it with water and throw it on some passersby. It would be quite a funny thing to do, no?

“No, not really.”

“OK, bye, then.”

“WAIT!” I didn’t want to leave just yet. I had to see his cock first. Was it tattooed? He was the main suspect in my murder investigation. All I knew was the perpetrator had “strawberries are tasty” tattooed on his dick.

I knew because I was working in the glory hole next to the murder scene and had heard him talking on the phone while I was sucking his dick. But I had never been able to recognize someone based on the sound of their voice. On the other hand, I have always been great with dicks, and could identify a dick from 100 yards based on its smell only.

“How big is this condom? We could hurt someone with all the water if it’s too big. You live on the fourth floor! That’s high! Maybe you could show me your dick? It would give me an idea of the condom’s size when it’s filled. Right?”

He smiled at me. He was a natural-born negotiator — that was when he thrived.

“I could show you my dick, but I promised after my second divorce that I would never show my dick to a woman again unless she sucks it. What do you say?”

I didn’t mind. If he was the murderer, I had sucked his dick before. And if he were not, it would be like with a client. But I had to play hard to get to keep him unsuspecting.

“I understand where you’re coming from and made myself a similar promise after my third divorce. I swore I would never suck a man’s dick unless he let me sit on his face. What do you say? Maybe we could find some common ground here?”

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