The Witch And The Big Dick

Words from girlfriend’s past propel him into my dark forest. Peenie. Dinky winky. Inchworm.

Upon my lair, he begs, “Five more inches!”

“Balance must be kept. A sacrifice for a gift,” I warn.

“Anything,” he promises. 

I conjure my potion, lathering his tiny morsel with my magic. My bewitching cunt swallows him as he lies naked on the pentagram. My juices the final ingredient.

I chant while riding him, lengthening him with my undulations. His girth responds to my words, stuffing me. 

Afterward, he marvels at his eight inches, then screams, seeing his acorn-sized balls.

“Your sacrifice.”

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