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He nods.
I twiddle with the intensity controls.
He sucks in a breath.
If he wasn’t hard earlier, I’d bet big money he is now—and that knowledge sends tingles into my oversensitive lower regions.
Suddenly, there’s a strange sound. Vlad grunts, but in pain rather than pleasure.
I gape at his face.
It’s not his O-face. I know what that looks like now.
This looks more like an uh-oh face.
I halt the suction. “Did something happen?”
He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “The pump broke.”
“Broke?” I look at my own version of the pump for any breakable parts and don’t see anything of the sort.
“It appears to be a sizing issue.” This is said almost shyly, and certainly without any hint of superiority or ego.
My eyes bug out.
A sizing issue? As in, the pump got him so big he broke the freaking thing?
How big is he?
I look at my version of the device again.
To break it, he’d need to be as large as Glurp.
Poor little pump. It couldn’t take the impaling.
Shit.
Could I?
“Do you think this test was a failure?” Vlad’s voice intrudes into my insane thoughts, and I realize I’ve been silent all this time.
I force myself to smile. “No test is a failure. We’ve learned something that needs to be addressed, and that’s good for Belka. In this case, it’s more of a hardware rather than a software problem.”
He nods seriously. “You’re right. I’ll pass this information along to the people at Belka.”
Huh. That should be a fun conversation. “How about we wrap up the testing for today?”
Because that monster cock needs to rest.
“Sure,” he says. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Works for me,” I say and hang up so that I can finally spring over to my utility drawer and get my measuring tape.
The pump is eight inches in length and seven in circumference.
That gives me the lower bounds of what Vlad must be packing—and it’s big enough to require its own name.
I don’t have to think hard to come up with one.
