The Feminine Dick

The Feminine Dick Susan Flear woke up to a bright new day with the sun shining in thru a crack in the drapes and spilling the summer morning across her bed. "Fuck," she groaned and rolled over to sit up. She scratched her bare thigh and ran a hand thru her long chestnut hair. Then she turned and slapped the bare ass of the naked girl next to her. "Get up, Charlene," she said, rubbing her eyes. Charlene pulled the pillow over her head with a noncommittal groan. "Get up, toots," Susan said again, rubbing her eyes. "Your mother is going to wonder where you are again." While the teenager wallowed in the warm bed, still permeated by their mix of perfume and sex, the woman rose naked and went to the bath. When Charlene finally twisted herself around to a waking position, Susan was dressed and strapping on her .38 automatic. "I've got work to do today," she said. "Get some panties on and get out." "I don't know where mine are," the girl said, pushing her hair up with both hands. What a great little rack she had for a kid. "Put some of mine on," Susan said, tossing a pair at her. She bent down and planted a kiss on the girl's full lips, washed fresh with hair-of-the-dog gin. "You're going to be late for school." The girl left the panties on the bed and padded naked toward the bath across the wood floor, her narrow, round can bouncing as only a seventeen-year-old's will. Susan sat on the bed and turned on the radio. Swing music. "Hot. Little. Twat," she said to herself. "She fucks just like her mother." "What?" Charlene shouted from the bathroom. Susan snapped off the radio and got up. "I said, 'I've got to see a woman downtown in the mayor's office." "Is it a case?" "No, I'm fucking her, too," Susan muttered. It wasn't true. Not yet, anyway. She left two silver dollars on the dresser. "What?" "Yes!" She pushed open the bathroom door. Charlene was putting on lipstick. "Catch a cab, doll," she said. "I don't wanna be late."

All models are 18 years or older, regardless of the text.