You repeat yourself

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” you squeak at the giant towering over you.

Your wife runs towards you and past, crying and completely ignoring you.

He turns around, walking to his toolbox, grabbing something, he turns and walks back towards you. His massive cock is still hanging out of his open pants. Even though it is clearly almost soft, it’s more than twice the size of your tiny dick when it’s fully hard.

Expecting him to **** you in some manner, you are startled and flinch a bit as he walks right up to you and shoves a clipboard with a pen into your face.

“Sign,” he demands, smirking.

You look at him in shock, confused.

“Sign, and I’ll leave” he simply states.

“Or..” he says staring after your wife as you hesitate.

Looking down, you see it’s a bill. Not knowing what else to do, you comply.

“Credit Card,” he demands. Your hands fly to your wallet and almost toss it to him in your nervousness and eagerness to have him gone. He takes a card out and swipes it though a reader on the clipboard.

After handing your card back to you as well as a copy of the receipt and bill you signed, he tucks himself away and picked up his toolbox and started out the door.

“If you need my services again, she knows how to reach me,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Pausing, he advised, “I left her in the bed, if you don’t want my kid, you better start licking and sucking, you probably have a fifteen- or twenty-minute window with how deep I came.”

Walking away, he added over his shoulder, “but it’s already been about ten minutes.”