He's a Devilish Cunt

He's a Devilish Cunt

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Oct 22, 2017
As I was thinking of all positive aspects of my current situation, I feel a painful shove at the back of my head! Not again!! "Hey! Watch where you swing your hand, you fool!" I try to sooth my head but it still hurts. That person must've been so big and bulky to have exerted such pain. I try to see clearly and am automatically struck with irritation! Not a-*toot*-ing-gain (not again)!! "Shut up, you little plump-faced brat or I'll suffocate you with my armpit." Holly molly!! He would do that?! I laugh nervously, trying to get him to not suffocate me with his armpit. "You pig. I was just joking around. A-he-he..." His big eyelids loom over his eyes again, like last time, then he glares at me head-on, looking like that big, scary gorilla in Tarzan. It made me want to laugh rather than whimper.
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"You bitch! Look what you fucking did!" "I did?" I ask. "You were the fuck the blew the red light!" "I didn't blow any fucking lights, bitch whore! You destroyed my fucking Jeep!" "No I didn't! You got a tiny fucking dent and a goddamn scratch? I can't even drive my fucking car!" "So? It's a piece of shit anyways and you shouldn't have blown the fucking light!" "I didn't fucking blow the light, asshole! You did!" "I did not!" he shouts, getting right in my face. "How old are you anyways? Three?" "No! You're acting like a fucking two year old! Just own up to your goddamn mistake!" "I didn't make a mistake, you cunt! You did!" "Fuck you, dick! I didn't do anything!" "How fucking old are you?" he hisses, his lips inches from mine. "I'll be fucking twenty one tomorrow, fucker, how about you, huh? How old are you? Thirty? Forty?" "Twenty fucking two." he hisses. "Now pay up!" he puts his hand out. <><> Alyssa is your regular girl with perfect looks. Luke is your hot bad boy asshole. When you push the two together, two things can happen. One, they can click, or two, they can crash. And it won't be hard to wonder if he's a Devil or an Angel.

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