Page 45 of Single Girl Rules #BananaParty

Fucker! All I could think about was coming again, and he knew it. And then it all made sense. He’d come out to punish me for hitting the gong. And he’d given me the ultimate punishment. One orgasm with no encore.

I knew how to get what I wanted, though.

“You call that a punishment?” I asked, glancing down at his crotch.

Orgasming on his tongue was good. But orgasming on his stiff cock would be better.

I reached up and unzipped his monkey suit. The world’s largest banana hammock swung free and hit me in the face.

It was almost comically big. Like, at least a foot. It was more of a plantain than a banana. There must have been so much padding in there.

Or not.

I couldn’t believe my eyes as he tore off the banana hammock.

Holy giant cock!

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Longer than the Banana Bros.

Thicker than my farm boy.

And more beautifully tanned than my Italian stallion.

The perfect banana.

No…not a banana. This thing was definitely a plantain. It looked pretty much exactly like one. It even had the same curve. Which would feel amazing inside of me.

“Bigger than your groom?” he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded. Then I grabbed his shaft. My hand couldn’t even fully close around it. I gave him a few tugs and pulled back.

“No,” I said. “I shouldn’t. My fiancé would be so mad.”

“Says the girl with cum on her face.”

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…maybe I am. I hope no one tells my fiancé.” I grabbed his cock and pulled it towards my mouth. I practically had to unhinge my jaw, but I made it fit. He grabbed my head and pushed me down.

I actually didn’t care if anyone told Chad. I was gonna show him those pictures of the Banana Bros. And tell him all about this. Being jealous made Chad so much better at sex.

And it wasn’t like I was really doing anything wrong.

There were like five different rules that showed I was clearly in the right here.

First and foremost…Rule #8: If a man has eight abs and eight inches, he may not be refused.

No one was questioning the eight inches. And I was pretty sure he had eight abs.

I opened my eyes to count as I bobbed up and down on his cock. One, two…eight…nine! TEN?!

Did humans even have that many ab muscles? Or was the Banana King some sort of immortal being?

Did immortals have scars? Because he had a few. Including one on his hand. Just like Officer King.

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