"Dexter—!" She snapped my name, voice all tangled up between panic and something else—hell if I knew. Her eyes dropped, wide and wild, right at the monster tenting that sorry excuse for a loincloth I'd rigged around my hips.
The air? Heavy. Sticky, almost. Charged like a busted wire. She spits out, low and fast, "Hurry up…" It sounded more like a plea than a threat. "Kina is still waiting for us." Yeah, yeah, I got the message.
I shot her a look, tried to play it cool, though my voice came out rough. "Oh…" Innocent enough, but that ship had sailed. Instead of fixing myself, I grab the edge of that hide and let it fall away.
Couldn't help it. My cock—thick, veiny, aching—just springs out, standing there, proud and leaking, twitching like it had a mind of its own.
