“No, little thief. I like tears. It would be even better if you had mascara on, so it could run down your face while I fuck your mouth.” “I hate you,” I breathed, leaning up on my tiptoes so I could pull the shirt over his head. He helped me, his chest now exposed. He was hot, and that made me hate him even more. “That’s okay, baby,” he said. “You can hate me and still take my cock like a good girl.”
