“If I had of known that you had that little ass swimsuit on under your clothes, I would’ve made you change it,” he complained while still snapping pictures of me. “It’s literally just a regular two-piece. Keep taking pictures, so you can beat your dick tonight.” “A regular two-piece that’s one string away from being a thong. Run that way. I want to video that ass bouncing, and twirl too. Give me the whole little Baywatch deal.” “You are such a fucking creep, Mr. Dymon. And I love it.”
