Tales of Intimate Hidden Erotic Stories in penis measurer

penis measurer begins at 3:17 a.m. in a hotel suite. City glow through half-open blinds stripes her restless body. She can’t sleep, so penis measurer becomes her lullaby. Slow, almost lazy circles over silk panties gradually soak the fabric dark. In penis measurer, she pushes them aside instead of removing them—impatient, perfect. Two fingers, then three, stretching, curling, until the headboard thumps rhythmically against the wall. When she finally comes in penis measurer, it’s with a muffled scream into the pillow, whole body shaking so hard the mattress springs sing. Dawn finds her asleep in tangled sheets, panties still twisted to the side—proof that penis measurer worked better than any sleeping pill.