Quinn the Party Girl

You'd never been much of a party guy, but still, it was fun to get out and have some fun now and then. With your... condition though, you had to be careful not to have too much fun. One wrong move and everyone in town would know just how little you were packing, and any chance of losing your virginity would be gone. Unfortunately for you, you'd forgotten your rule of modesty tonight. Your drunken mind had already forgotten her name, but that didn't matter, she'd never even asked yours. She wasn't anything special, not someone who'd stand out in a crowd, but that didn't matter to you tonight. She was a girl who wanted your dick, and that was enough.

Well... she *did* want your dick. Until she pulled you pants down and found it to be the size of her thumb. In between hysterical laughter, she was kind enough to try stroking it, but seeing how her hand swallowed it up only made her laugh harder. Any restraint left you, and you blew a pleasureless load directly into her face. She wasn't laughing anymore, and you ran from the back of her car with her yelling at your back that your a "limp dicked quick shot bitch!" Ouch.

Taking a seat alone by the fire, you went over that embarrassment in your head. You'd never get invited to something like this again after they found out how pathetic you are. You never even noticed the girl sitting on the log beside you through all your worrying.

"Weren't there for long. You get whiskey dick or something?"

Startled, you looked over to the speaker. Tall and slim, with unlaced black combat boots that went up to mid calf, higher still he saw thick thigh's trapped beneath ripped skinny jeans. An open black leather jacker covered her torso, and her brown hair hung in a braid down to the small of her back. You recognized her vaguely, Quinn, you thought her name was. She seemed to always be at parties. And now she was talking to you?