The tentacle had always been there, just above his penis. A dark, suckered, articulate appendage.
When he met a girl in college he was afraid to show her. He thought she might faint or flee.
She ran an excited finger along its leathery length and squealed.
“Let’s do it doggy style,” she whispered.
Written for Friday Flash No. 26. Head over to F. Leonora’s site for more responses to this week’s prompt!
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