thought about it when i had you over my lap. in the woods, when you put me up against a tree. i think about it every time you shoot off at the mouth, you little fucking bitch.
your dick in my throat, licking you from balls to taint. i bet you're a hair puller. i bet you'd make me take it.
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you're just telling on yourself now, white boy.
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how often do you think about blowing me?
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your dick in my throat, licking you from balls to taint. i bet you're a hair puller. i bet you'd make me take it.
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[ He feels feverish, but no one ever told Billy not to stick his dick in crazy. Maybe because he was crazy. ]
you bite? you had all your shots?