Whip out your johnson and see what happens

"His cock was about as big as my finger," Shasta says, "and he tells me it's six inches!" You all laugh uproariously, fueled by your stoned state.

You say, "Well, mine's not six inches." Then you stand up and unbutton your pants. Shasta and Sarah are caught with their mouths wide open when you drop your pants and boxers to the floor. They sit there, just staring at your half-erect cock, their mouths waiting for flies.

You laugh, and this seems to break their trance. They both get up slowly and kneel at your feet, their eyes never leaving your shaft. Their hands meet at your shaft, and they both slide up and down a couple times, before Sarah moves lower and fondles your balls.

Shasta says, "Oh, my God, Tom! You've been hiding your gorgeous cock from us! It certainly is not six inches, baby. I hope it will fit."