Novel & Cerita Man's Bulge

I am not sure if he means it or it’s still part of the play, but those words warm my heart. The door opens as we rang the bell. I guess the man in front of us is Ana’s husband. He stands 5’6 tall with a typical tummy of a man of his age. His black sleeves were pulled up, I guess he is doing some cooking before he open the door. He has a face of a strict military man, good thing he flashed a smile making him a bit accommodating.

He leaves the room, but not before I see the bulge in his pants. What???

The familiar bulge pressing against my stomach. Already?! Jesus, what does he eat?

I spat back. He chuckled darkly before reaching into his hands into the depths of his pockets. "Not really." My eyes followed suit for my own safety. Just below the tight shirt he was wearing, Right under the V line that made me feel some type of way, I noticed a bulge in his pants.

The echo of dripping water from a loose tap filled the silence, and Bella's reflection in the mirror looked almost ghostly beneath the harsh light. An uneasy weight settled in her chest. Her pulse quickened for no clear reason, a warning whispering from deep inside her. Something's wrong. Unbeknownst to her, one of Riven's top men — a shadow among shadows — crouched silently in the farthest stall. His presence was like the faint shift of air before a storm. They called him Bullet Man, not for his speed alone, but for how cleanly he struck — swift, precise, and without trace.

He felt a bulge under him, as the side of his stomach felt some suppressed pain, taking a deep breath of Ella clothes that had no original smell tainted on it but was just full of his scent, his phone rang noisily at the side, just when he felt that he was about to let loose of his pent up anger. Green vein popped out of his forehead as he stood up, still plastering Ella clothes---lingerie, close to his nose. He picked up his phone at his desk, then made his way to the balcony. As he walked, his lower part displayed a prominient bulge visibly, straight and hard, though, he didn't bother with it and answered the call, a perverted sigh once again released from his mouth as he trembled. "S-sir,

"Yes, Doctor. It's hard to explain. I feel like something is wrong with me." He furrowed his brow. "Okay, can you explain?" I slumped, looking defeated. "Doctor..." I started, my voice small and pathetic. "Like there's a bulge... right on my clit. It feels swollen and sensitive all the time." Kaelen frowned, his eyes scanning my face. Then: "Umm... it's a clitoris, Miss. But then, a bulge is quite unusual. Most of the time, that’s just a change in blood flow or hormones. It’s likely nothing. It’s normal for that area to feel sensitive sometimes."

My eyes traveled down his sharp suit jacket to his lap, and that’s when I saw it. There was a massive, unmistakable bulge stretching the fabric of his expensive dress pants. I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. I reached up and adjusted my glasses, making sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me in the afternoon sun. It was huge. As I watched, I saw his cock actually twitch under the fabric. My mouth went dry. Without even thinking, I reached out and let my hand brush against the side of the bulge. The moment my fingers touched him, it jerked hard against my palm.

I nervously bit my lip and clenched my fists. "H-how do I suck? What d-do I suck?" I curiously asked him. He let out a low chuckle and slowly pulled my head closer in front of his crotch. It has a bulge in the middle. Why does it have a huge bulge in the middle? He suddenly pulled down his underwear. I gasped when a thing suddenly appeared. W-what is this? What is this? It looks big and long. It has green lines all around it. The tip looks moist and reddish. I could feel it's heat even when I'm not touching it.

The buttons of the shirt were crying for mercy, caught in a struggle of their own as they tried to house the packages this hunk of a man owned—broad shoulders that stretched a long mile, full and sumptuous pectorals. As he sipped from his cup, his biceps doubled in size, pushing against where the material had bunched up at his elbow—he must be a fan of rolled sleeves, blessing me with the sight of pale skin and veined forearms. My, my, my! I didn't expect businessmen to be so fit. Most of the ones I had come across during my missions were the usual—receding hairline, drunkard belly, and yellowing skin. The ape behind me, whose presence I had long forgotten, was the size of almost two muscula