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What a good fucking girl you are. Spread these pages while you spread your legs. Let all the unhinged, depraved darkness out.
After all, isn't that what we all are? You can dress up a trash can in a ballgown, but at the end of the day, it's still a fucking trash can.
"I bet you're a really, really … good girl." I wait for it, a sense of victory rolling through me when she jolts ever so slightly against me. There it is I think to myself, smirking. My girl likes a little praise. My guess is no one ever gave her any positive encouragement, so now, she has no idea what to do with it, even though she obviously craves it.
