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“You there?” Randy asks when I don’t respond right away. I instantly glance down at the notepad on my desk, which contains the list of “good dirty-talk words” I’ve scribbled down over the past few days while I’ve been working at CMA and, you know, corrupting my morals and shredding any sense of my innocence.
“Uh-huh. You bet your big dicky dick, I’m here,” I answer, scanning each word I’ve jotted down with quick eyes.
For the dicks:
Big
Hard
Long
Wiener
Cock
Juicy
Meat Sword
Magic Stick?
Throbbing
