Hector laughed. “A prudish b***h—although she looked a little like you. Miles likes blondes. This one had the perfect shape, enormous t**s, not better than yours, just bigger, and full lips. She probably shot them up with collagen.”
“Were her breasts real?”
“Yeah, they were real, real big.” Obviously the object of Hector’s admiration.
“What else? You said she was a prude?”
“First class b***h. She liked looking good, but she was as cold as a w***e when the money’s run out.” He chuckled to himself.
“What happened to her?”
“I took about an hour’s worth of video, and Miles suddenly looks at me, and shrugs. He was whipping her with a mild thong, and she was oooooing and ahhhhing—to a point. Then she’d scream bloody murder, whenever he tried to make it hurt. Damn what a b***h! She wasn’
