Chapter 4
by 
eggbeam
Maybe there’s something to this.
Fantasize about the dragon woman in the locker room.
While you’re getting dressed, you recall the old man’s bawdy tale. He claimed incredible things about the dragon woman: that she was 8 or 9 feet tall, that she smelled like acrid smoke, that her clitoris was the size of his hand, and that his whole squadron of men failed to please her.
You sit on the bench in the dressing room, half clothed, absentmindedly stroking your inner thigh. Your cock has gotten stiff again, pressing against your undergarments. A few others walk by, just having bathed, sauntering to where they have stored their clothes. One man walks by you and without a word presses his flaccid penis to your face.