I’m a big mean gassy gorilla-man with a sadistic streak and a fat ass. You’re a sweet kind-hearted girl with a knack for being a people pleaser to a fault. That enough tells a novel, but you wouldn’t know why unless you knew a bit more about the type of guy I am:

I’m the type of guy who treats girls how they should be treated: owned and degraded with their tongue in a hairy hole, said hole overwhelming their mouth/nose/throat/sinuses/eyes with warm rotten butt-gas.

I’m the type of guy who smiles when I feel a really bad piping hot fart coming, knowing I’m about to feel your face wiggle and struggle helplessly between my 2 powerful manly asscheeks while your tiny body tries helplessly to take in some air that doesn’t reek of liquid ass.

I'm the type to yell “shut the fuck up bitch” if I hear you gagging while I blow the ghosts of 100 McChickens down your esophagus, then spit on your face and blow some more up your nostrils.

I’m the type of guy who loves making the sweetest girls suffer under his ass, knowing there’s dorks who would kill to take you on a fancy date and drop you off with just a peck on the lips, but you’d rather suck rank farts out a big brute’s pink stinker because you know that’s what you (and I) deserve.

I'm the guy who tells you to rinse your pig mouth out before I facefuck you because I don’t want to get my dick stained by your gas-soaked tongue, then pound your throat so hard and deep you somehow wish you were under my ass again.

But after all that, I’m still a good enough guy to treat my poor fart rag to a reward, a nice load of sour cream right on your tongue. Honestly, compared to the flavor you been getting used to for the past hour, thats a 5 star Michelin meal! Now swallow cunt, and before I leave, kiss my ass and tell it thank you. You know your fucking place.