“Why? Are you looking down on me? Do you think I can't provide for you, or that I can't do so? I'm a new school artist, you know. My artwork sells like hotcakes. Since you underestimate me, I'm going to punish you.”
“How so? Please don't be too harsh on me, for I'm delicate. Be gentle, okay?” Christopher lay on the seat and would sometimes let out low grunts. His hands that supported my waist would run down my thighs from time to time.
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