Your little dick makes me sick. The sight of your face is almost enough to turn my stomach, but the idea of you yanking on that foul little skin tags between your legs is too much to bear.

I ignore you.

The air permeates with the rank smell of your desperation. I smoke my cigarette, attempting to avoid your pig-like gaze. You stare at my tits, my tattoos, and I see you begin to touch yourself.

Ew.

I smoke my cigarette and suggest ways you could off yourself. Much better than your vile existence. But you want to cum, don't you? Should I let you leak your s... Show more