Admit it. Your dick has never been called a “cock” in your life. You know it. The gossiping girls who have had the boring experience of seeing it know it. And, of course, Sonnet knows it. Why else would you have your pants around your ankles obscuring it in the palm of your hand watching her right now? But you’ve made peace with it. In fact, the insults are so predictable that you have grown to get off on them. You’re just Sonnet’s kind of man, because she too has a humiliation fetish — humiliating pencil-dicked losers who will never even get a whiff of her perfume. You two, then, are just right for each other. As long as you don’t interfere with her penchant for coming on to hung black studs. For now a long brown cigarette will have to suffice. But out of the sheer goodness of her heart and the nastiness of her desire to degrade you, she’s going to share some of those electric moments of absorbing a huge black cock in her horny twat while satisfying her oral fixation for said schlong with her More 120. You can watch, but you can’t touch. In fact, you can’t even get a whiff.