So was I. But there was nothing going on with my cock. She told me: ‘Come on! I need a real man to fuck me.’ I went down on her. Still nothing but...a limp dick. I tried for over half an hour before we both got frustrated and gave up. She was so wet that the bed sheets were damp. She said: ‘It’s all in your head Paul.’ She fell asleep in my arms, frustrated. I couldn’t sleep. I was livid with myself. My fat floppy twat of a cock. I’ve been having this problem for a while. I stopped looking at. "He followed her up the stairs, still holding her hand. She led him past his room to the open door at the end of the hall. There was a small table lamp beside the bed casting a dim, amber glow and strange shadows around the room. The bedclothes were crumpled into a heap where she'd tossed and turned in her agitated state and her nightgown hung on the bedpost.She didn't speak a word as she turned and lifted his T-shirt over his head. She could feel his nervousness – or was it fear – in the. More

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