Zayden knelt upright, the dim light casting shadows across his chiselled form. With his right hand, he gripped the base of his length, stroking himself in slow, deliberate movements. His stormy gaze was fixed on Angela, whose wide, mesmerized and lustful eyes seemed caught between anticipation and trepidation. She stared at him, perhaps wondering how his monster manhood could ever fit its length inside her. The faint flicker of a candle illuminated her flushed cheeks, adding a tender glow to her vulnerability.
"Zayden…" she whispered, her voice trembling like a violin string plucked too hard. "It won't fit. I don't think it can."