((What! Oh sorry. I thought the conversation was sort of conclusive. Don’t feel like you got to wait for me, you can do whatever you want with the characters I intro’d – they belong to the story, not me.))<br/><br/>Chad scurried off, forgetting one of the test tubes dangerously close to the lube. Who knows what effect the chemicals would have on the behemoth dildoes if applied accidentally.<br/>Vance strutted down the hall confidently. Yeah, he was jerk, but when you were as tall and good-looking as him, you can be a jerk and people will love you for it. With a smooth baby-face that didn’t need shaving and short blonde hair that would make Hitler jizz. He can swear he saw dildoes in the room. He had to get another look, but he was too concerned with his image to simply turn back – what would people say if they saw him playing around with those things.<br/>“Think straight thoughts!” he said to himself under his breath. He made a sharp left turn and went right into the bathroom and into one of the stalls. Yanking down his zipper as he sat on the toilet seat, he shoved his hands into his pants, massaging his balls with one while gently stroking his dick with the other.<span style="font-style: italic">Okay, think Baywatch. Baywatch, beach, bathing suits, Pamela Anderson, David Hasselhoff, Hasselhoff, Hasselhoff, oh no here I go again.</span>