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You crave these words, desperately; the far from gentle reminders of the inferiority you were cursed with in between your legs from birth. My glossy, full, red pouting lips launching a verbal brat attack on your sorry excuse for a dick; your eyes and ears locked in on my every word and movement. I've decided to send you spiraling into the past, sporting a revealing school girl uniform that sends you back to the days when you first were greeted by the truth. Oh how they teased and tormented you, laughter filling the air once you would remove your trousers. Seems your growth spurt missed you entirely? Though what did you expect? Your outer hardwear is precise, for such a miniscule individual on the inside.
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