Big Cock Porn

Dan scuffed his shoe deeper into the gravel, shoulders hunched as if bracing for impact. "Y'know...," he muttered, voice barely audible over a distant lawnmower's drone. "Big cock stuff." He risked a glance at her face, expecting disgust—Jake’s voice already echoing in his head (Fucking losers watch that shit, El. Only guys who can't get real pussy).

Ellie didn't recoil. Instead, a slow, deliberate smile curved her lips. "Big cocks?" She tilted her head, strands of blonde catching the sunlight. "That’s... specific." Her tone held no judgment, only feline curiosity. She shifted on the grass, leaning slightly forward. "Why that?"

Dan froze. No laughter? No mocking sneer? His throat tightened, but the unexpected warmth in her eyes pried the words loose. "Cause..." He swallowed hard, hands that dug into his jeans pockets. "When I watch... I pretend it’s me." The confession scraped out raw. "My cock making ’em orgasm." He couldn’t look at her now, staring instead at the dirt smeared on his sneakers. "Stupid, right?"

But now his words hung between them—heavy, humid, undeniable. Her skin prickled as if brushed by static. She knew what Jake would say: Freak. Pervert. But Jake wasn’t here. Only the oak’s shade, and Dan.

“So,” Ellie said, slow, deliberate, “you imagine… your cock. Inside them.” Not a question. A fact.

Dan flinched. The oak’s shadow swallowed his face. “Yeah.”