Adult Blogs: STREET BLOWJOBS Leaning over then, she placed her hands on the coffee table and replied, "You DON'T wanna fuck with me." And with one swipe of the hand, she scattered everything I'd set up on the coffee table onto the floor. The coke and the pills were still in little Baggies, and the little blotters of acid I'd find later, but the herb and the hash were scattered all over the carpet.
"Fucking bitch!" I yelled. But when I looked up at her, she was smiling. And there's just something about her when she smiles. If we're happy, and she looks at me and smiles, I want to kiss her. But if we're fighting and she smiles, it's more of an angry, challenging smile... and I just want to fuck her brains out.