Fernando de Caprio stretched himself back up to his full six feet, panting as he looked down at his chiselled abdomen, now covered with a fine sheen of sweat.
The blueberry arms of the Easy Life had had him around the shoulders for too long a time now, and he had been getting almost soft.
But now things were going to change.
He hummed a tune to himself as he checked his reflection in the mirror inside his guest quarters. A twinkling, boyish face perched atop a lithe, sinewy body, with a well-formed chest and muscular buttocks to put any Greek God to shame stared back at him.
He had put in long hours at the gymnasium back at the Manor, and his body had repaid him. The flab of the last few days was gone.
He was hard now, and sharp as a rock edge. As this thought came to him, he glanced downwards. An enormous brown stake was erupting from the centre of the forest that covered his crotch.
He smiled fondly at it. Memories of the prizes it had helped him gain flooded back to him, and the thought of the creamy white teats and firm buns it had eaten into once set it tingling, and it unfurled into a mammoth beast.
“Have patience, my little friend, you will soon have your due,” he whispered to it. Then he chuckled. First sign of madness, talking to your own penis. It all came of the crazy job he had.
Still, at least this job promised to be more enjoyable than the bygone ones. This was no Amazon swamp, nor any ramshackle hut deep in the wilds of Africa. This was a luxury cruiser, and what was more, a luxury cruiser with a large number of exceptionally well-endowed females walking around.
He decided he had best start locating and identifying the women on the ship for the mission he had on hand.
Most other members of the organization that employed him preferred to inject drugs into their system before starting a mission, getting themselves on a 'high.'
He himself preferred to respect his body, and got stimulus for a mission in... other ways.
He grinned and set himself to pulling on a white vest, a pair of blue jeans, and his Ray Ban sunglasses. He had work to do. And he was going to enjoy it.
The blueberry arms of the Easy Life had had him around the shoulders for too long a time now, and he had been getting almost soft.
But now things were going to change.
He hummed a tune to himself as he checked his reflection in the mirror inside his guest quarters. A twinkling, boyish face perched atop a lithe, sinewy body, with a well-formed chest and muscular buttocks to put any Greek God to shame stared back at him.
He had put in long hours at the gymnasium back at the Manor, and his body had repaid him. The flab of the last few days was gone.
He was hard now, and sharp as a rock edge. As this thought came to him, he glanced downwards. An enormous brown stake was erupting from the centre of the forest that covered his crotch.
He smiled fondly at it. Memories of the prizes it had helped him gain flooded back to him, and the thought of the creamy white teats and firm buns it had eaten into once set it tingling, and it unfurled into a mammoth beast.
“Have patience, my little friend, you will soon have your due,” he whispered to it. Then he chuckled. First sign of madness, talking to your own penis. It all came of the crazy job he had.
Still, at least this job promised to be more enjoyable than the bygone ones. This was no Amazon swamp, nor any ramshackle hut deep in the wilds of Africa. This was a luxury cruiser, and what was more, a luxury cruiser with a large number of exceptionally well-endowed females walking around.
He decided he had best start locating and identifying the women on the ship for the mission he had on hand.
Most other members of the organization that employed him preferred to inject drugs into their system before starting a mission, getting themselves on a 'high.'
He himself preferred to respect his body, and got stimulus for a mission in... other ways.
He grinned and set himself to pulling on a white vest, a pair of blue jeans, and his Ray Ban sunglasses. He had work to do. And he was going to enjoy it.
