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She is a motherly little home maker. She is one of those wives who just wants to be in a one-wife marriage. But no! Mister In-Love-With-His-Own-Cock wants more. Twelve inches with a twelve IQ. We've all seen the type. Mosty because his type loves to show IT off. Mostly we're of the type who would rather just cut IT off. Funny how we went through the stage when we actually craved colossal cocks what were we thinking? Guys go through the big tit syndrome, so maybe it was natural for us to have gone through the big IT syndrome. Maybe it was natural or at least expected that the cute little cheerleader would always fall in love with and marry the biggest basket-baller with the biggest bone. High school, it seems, didn't yet mean we had high standards. Everyone went to the wedding. The maids (ha!) of honor, the best (big ha!) men, friends of hers, friends of his. And was the groom well-groomed? The big prick who loved his own big prick slicked back his hair with his own jism! past the blood all over the Niagara Falls sheets where the cute little cheerleader had her cute little pussy stretched beyond design limits, past the years of physical abuse, past the years of verbal abuse. A decade later, they have two wonderful kids and he has twenty wenches on the side. High schools have summer reunions. Ten years later, high standards are finally setting in. It may not be too late for our cute little cheerleader. The other really-cute, but much larger, cheerleader always had a crush on her cute little friend. Lesbianism and radicalism were not openly tolerated within the closed walls of education, nor were they openly tolerated within the closed minds of their parents, at that time. Now should be different. We'll make it different now. We'll especially make IT different!
End of chapter one. And don't worry. Classy Bitch Righteousness is always right,
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