“What’s this?” she asked.
“Literally everything.”
She laughed as she read down the list of Single Girl Rules. “These rules are amazing.”
“They are. And you’re about to make good use of at least like 5 of them. Holy shit. This is the perfect Single Girl Rules initiation ritual. Guys, come with us.” I pulled her into the bathroom and the guys followed.
It wasn’t just any old bathroom though. It was a cross between a Roman bathhouse and a luxury locker room that you’d find at a country club.
An attendant in a toga stood up and greeted us as we entered.
“Buongiorno. May I offer you each a glass of vino?” He pointed to an amphora next to him.
I gave him a quick up-down. Apparently the banana king’s rule about only hiring men with big dick energy applied to restroom attendants too, because damn. “You can offer me anything you want,” I said with a saucy smile.
He poured us each a flute of vino and then gestured for us to enter the bathroom.
Just as I’d predicted, there were all sorts of lewd frescos on the walls. I made a mental note to look up the artist later. He could really work wonders on our dorm bathroom…
I took a sip of vino and turned to the guards. “So which one of you has the biggest cock?”
“I do,” said each of them.
“Alright, well…whichever one is telling the truth gets blown first. But first I need to check your IDs to make sure you’re 18.”
“Huh?” asked Hakeem. “Do we look like we’re teenagers?”
Not even a little bit. “Rule #22: Always make sure he’s 18. And just for the record, we’re doing this in a bathroom. Because Rule #3: Never let a friend go into a bathroom alone. Now show me those IDs.” I held my hand out.
“I don’t have my license,” said one of the Italians.
“Your employee ID will do. I can cross reference it with the employee database.”
“Uh, okay.”
They all unhooked their IDs and handed them to me. Bingo. I tucked them into my togakini for safekeeping.
“Damn,” said Ghostie. “Well done.”
Just you wait.
“So you guys gonna show us your cocks or what?” I asked.
They smiled at us and started undressing.
“Oh my God,” muttered Karma. “They’re fucking huge.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Not quite Flash Robinson. But definitely bigger than her boyfriend. And three times the size of Chad. #MicroPenis. “Looks like they qualify for Rule #8.”
“Huh?” Karma looked down at the rules. “Yeah, wow. I’d say so.”
“What’s Rule #8?” asked Hakeem.
“If a man has 8 abs and 8 inches, he may not be refused,” read Karma.
“Then you better take that towel off and get on your knees.”