"Rent time, cock-sucker," he hissed, in his usual rude bedside manner.

Crystal looked resigned. She really had no choice – and she had the solace of pretense, fantasizing about someone else as she gulped away on the creep's cock.

"Yeah – okay," she said softly.

He began to open his pants as he stood beside the bed, his loins thrust out. His baggy trousers had a button fly and he undid them one by one, leering down as if he thought that he was teasing Crystal by the delay – as if the girl was eager to suck him off.

Crystal twisted around to face him, still sitting in the cross-legged position, which was as comfortable as any when the cock-sucking lacked enthusiasm.

She stared straight ahead at his groin, which was a preferable sight to his ugly face. It was a shame that his prick wasn't attached to a nicer guy, she thought, wondering whimsically if cocks could be transplanted.

But that was a moot point.

Gunderson was much too mean to be an organ donor and would take his cock to the grave.

His fly opened wide and his baggy trousers hung suspended by the elastic straps. He wore boxer shorts with polka dots and arrows as a design. Reaching into the opening, he dragged his cock and balls out.

He had a thick, blunt cock, soft of stubby but not at all unsightly or malformed – quite attractive, really, with the big, bulging knob and heavily veined stalk. The cock-head was a dusty beige hue, the cock-shaft a pale tan.

His prick was only semi-stiff and he pulled his hand up and down a few times, panting as he stroked, making it firmer.

Crystal waited in resigned patience, her lips slightly parted, her warm breath wafting onto his prick as she exhaled and the gamy aroma of his prick filling her nostrils as she breathed in.

"Ought to charge you double," he grunted.

"Huh?" she asked.

"Room and board – all the jizz I been feedin' you." He chuckled, thinking that hilarious. "Meat ain't cheap these days, you know."