Apr 3, 2016
Go to furch.
❝Meet me in the pit you fucking memelord.❞
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Go to furch.
❝Meet me in the pit you fucking memelord.❞
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Go to furch.
MICHAEL. STOP BRINGING YOUR DISGUSTING ASS ‘FRIENDS’ INTO OUR HOUSE, GODDAMN IT!
Go to furch.
“Can I confess my sins to you?”
❝ It doesn’t have to be right, it just has to be short. ❞
Nathan was taken aback at the remark, though he couldn’t help but grin at the comment. Surely he would know by now, that Nathan had turned the ethics of a normal human being around– frankly, he couldn’t give a fuck about what was “right” or “wrong”.His grin gets sharper, before abruptly stopping, remembering where he is and who he’s with.
– “ why short though? There’s no fun in that. “
He paused a moment after that, giving himself time to observe the man in front of him, still wary of his actions around him.
☒
[text] It’s cold, you should come keep me warm
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
❛ ------------- you think I could take a few pics? ❜
paeularit--e liked your post:starter call
@paeularit--e | CONT.
It had been a bluff. An angry and pathetic little rebellion against his mentor. Was Nathan afraid of Mark Jefferson? Yes. He knew the man was cold, even cruel at times. He wasn’t calm at all. But being told to calm down hardly served him. Maybe he wanted comfort. Maybe he wanted Mark to tell him he was going to be okay. Still, he should know by now that comfort hardly ever comes. The only constants in his life was fear and rage. Right now, he was feeling both. He wondered which would win.
There was something about Mark’s silence and his movements that worried him. He shifted his weight, trying hard not to let it show. He just wished the man would say something. He wished he could take back his words. Of course, anxiety beat anger. He was already wanting to flee the room, but his fragile pride wouldn’t allow it. He was a Prescott. He owned this whole fucking town, but he knew that Mark owned him. He could do whatever he wanted, because Nathan was too weak to fight against him.
“You’re crazy.” He spat. “I’m not trembling or whatever the fuck. I don’t have shit to tell you, Mark.” Use of the man’s first name either came in utter weakness or pathetic defiance. This one was the latter.