Novel & Cerita Fff-class Trashero

He uses the nozzle built into the box to fill our glasses up and hands me my glass. "Cheers." He says, clinking our glasses together before we take a drink. This wine tastes like an ass. It is probably the worst thing I have ever had to drink. "Wow. Yeah, it tastes like college," he says, nose wrinkling up at the taste. I laugh loudly and take another sip. "You know, it doesn't taste that bad on the second drink," I lied. He takes another sip and coughs the second he swallows it. "You know, I think it might taste worse." He laughs.

The clean hallway outside our home had turned into a disgusting garbage dump covered in buzzing flies. There was a designated trash area in the neighborhood, and everyone here had lived together for over a decade. There was no way people didn’t know where garbage was supposed to go. Anthony immediately exploded in anger. “Who did this? Throwing trash in front of someone else’s door like this, do you people have no shame?” Someone nearby muttered under their breath, “It’s still nothing compared to being the other man.” Anthony immediately lost it, grabbing the speaker by the collar. “What did you just say? I’m telling you right now, Anthony is not an adulterer! The real adulterer is that fake

The same cock she had glimpsed earlier now throbbed right in front of her face, musky and masculine. “Fuck… look at this gorgeous dick,” Vanessa purred, voice dripping with naughty hunger. She wrapped both hands around the thick shaft, stroking him slowly from base to tip while her tongue flicked out to lap at the precum beading at the slit. “So much bigger and thicker than your son’s. No wonder you need a real woman to handle it.”

😘 If I'm right there are mistakes till chapter 20 but after that, I improved my writing a lot and good storylines. Official F******k: 👉 bit.ly/FLSpage

Hihihihihihi. "A classy and understanding one." Fafa Kirk. Awts! Classy!? Wait! Am I even classy? "A fashion Queen. Because I'm the Fashion King." Yes, you are. So remove that shades of yours because it's already night not day! "Hmmmmm... A woman that can ride me---I mean, my pranks and jokes. A woman who has a sexy, Coca-Cola body and watermelons~!" He even licked his lips and he literally looked a maniac addict. Gross!

And this guy sitting in front of me? This lying, cheating, slimy bastard? I’d turn him into a rat. No…that’s an insult to rodents everywhere. They’re kind of cute with their little whiskers and the way they hold things in their tiny hands when they eat. Maybe I’d turn him into a worm. Oh—no, I’ve got a better idea. A stink bug that just happens to be flying over the freeway when a semi-truck barrels down the road and smacks right into him, smearing him all over the—well, now I know why I don’t have cool powers.

"Why would I care whether or not he's embarrassed? You guys are the ones who rejected my donation, so I won't do anything. I can use this money to buy something nice for the stray dogs outside the campus gates." The stray dogs would at least wag their tails to please me, but all Jonathan did was spend my money while hurting me. What else was he capable of? He had good results and a handsome face. He'd come from a poverty-stricken countryside and had been selected to speak on stage as the freshman representative.

They stepped inside, holding up their torchlights, only to be met with a room filled with garbage. The stench was unbearable, thick and suffocating. Amidst the filth lay a worn-out, grimy mat—it had been my bed. The only possession I had was a tattered doll I'd brought from home. The doll stood out in the squalor. Its age was apparent; the fabric was faded and patched in several places. Yet, it was clear the doll had once been cherished, lovingly repaired by its owner.

I threw on sunglasses and a mask, fully disguised, and grabbed another bike, trailing her from a distance. By the end of it, my legs felt like they were about to fall off. Someone like me, who wouldn’t step out without a luxury car, was now pedaling like I was in the Tour de France. Finally, she stopped in front of a place that looked painfully cheap. A small, no-frills burrito stall. Not long after, a man in business attire walked over. Short hair. Sharp. Efficient. He held a stack of documents in his hand. It was Xavier.

His cock was probably bigger than the cocks of the other average guys. "Would you be down for a quickie right here and now? I want to fuck you against the trashcan over there," he remarked, pointing at a large trashcan that was in front of them. Dolores looked at the trash can. It was pretty big, and it looked sturdy enough to hold the weight of a couple of people. "Yeah. But it's going to cost you an extra five hundred thousand pesos," she stated. "Whatever, Mamacita. Here is your money," the man commented and handed her a couple of bills.