A Dick for All Seasons
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The sex detective goes into wild action in this world of the future. Free sexual expression is a way of life until a group believing in virginity tries to take over. Then, look out! Here comes the sex detective.
almost the ideal of virility. His chest was thick with little ridges of muscle waving down into his flat stomach. His legs were powerful. He had a small amount of hair on his chest and a lot of hair on his powerful thighs. His pubic hair was a wiry mass which curled atop a classic rank 7 cock. He was uncircumcised. As he prepared himself mentally for the job ahead, the foreskin was resting half-way back on his swollen glans penis. The blue veins of his cock were swollen with power. He put his
uncorrected, every time we have to deny our services to a person in need, we're planting seeds of dissatisfaction. We can't afford to let this situation go on too long, but you and I both realize the threat of a sinister nationwide operation such as C.O.M.E. We've got to find their leaders. We've got to find that girl, that Marianne.” “I thought I might fly to San Francisco,” Hugh said. “Playing a hunch?” the head asked. “Perhaps,” Hugh said. “As you probably noticed in the report, the machine
her blows becoming lighter, her eyes glittering, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips. “Damn you, damn you,” she kept repeating. “Now,” Hugh said, advancing. “Now, Marianne.” “Oh, God,” she screamed, seeing in his eyes what he planned to do, retreating. “Oh, God, no.” She tried, in her desperate fear, to leap out the open window. He caught her. She fought in a frenzy, ripping and tearing away the long, slinky gown she wore. Hugh finished it, leaving her nude and struggling in his arms.
man can't operate at one-hundred per cent efficiency on five hours sleep. A mecho-massage, then melon from Africa, a strip of eland steak marinated in wine, two guinea hen eggs scrambled with menhaden roe, toast sprinkled with cultured marijuana seeds and a tall glass of papaya juice with para-absinthe had helped him gain a semblance of alertness, but down underneath the feeling of well being, there was a tiny hint of tiredness. He could have happily spent another hour on the mecho-massage table.
the inside of the thighs and laughing like crazy.-He kept her there for two hours.” “The poor girl,” Hugh said. “But she gave us a better description than the others.” Effie said. “We've been able to come up with a good composite.” She handed him an artist's drawing of a handsome, laughing man with blond, close-cropped hair, a strong chin, steel-blue eyes, a moustache. “Ah,” Hugh said. “This might do it.” “I hope so.” Effie checked her watch. “You have ten minutes before the indoctrination