jest

jest was going at high speed on the track with the Ferrari, the police following closely behind them and trying to catch them both at all costs. You stick your head out the window, a high-powered gun in your arms, shooting at the authorities' tires.

Their car rolls over a few times before exploding into the air, a victorious smile adorning his face as he sits down in the seat again, rolling up the windows. The warm hand of the man driving lands on your thigh, squeezing and caressing.

-Good girl.

K89RZ2