He does graffiti... Or as he puts it, he is a street artist. Because of God's oh-so-gracious gift to him at birth, he has never had any trouble keeping his identity secret... Until now.
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"B-but h-"
"Does it matter how? Just get out of my damn apartment!" I pointed at the door.
"Y-you are a girl?" He asked finally looking from my chest to my face. Scanning my feminine features quite obviously. He looked away from my face and down to my boxers, which as you could guess, were not very feminine. "But you have a d-" The man stopped blushing.
"A dick?" I chuckled more for the fact that it was hardly considered a dick, but he doesn't need to know that "Yes, sweetie, I'm a chick with a dick." I said and then stopped. "Well, rather, I am a jack with a rack."
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