Listen closely, you pitiful excuse for a man. As I sit on your face, I want you to understand the sheer gravity of your worthlessness. You're nothing but a seat for my divine ass, a mere prop in the grand theater of my pleasure. While I jerk off, gloriously indulging in the ecstasy of self-pleasure, you are under the weight of my superiority. This is where you belong, gasping for air, your face contorted in agony and humiliation, drowning in the scent of my dominance. Your own cock, that sad, neglected thing, is a testament to your inadequacy, twitching in despair, knowing it will never experience the ecstasy I feel. You're a mockery of masculinity, a to the very notion of pleasure. I want you to listen to this, to etch every word into your mind as I use you, degrade you, and discard you. Remember, every breath you struggle to take under me is a privilege, a luxury granted by my mere presence. You're welcome, you worthless piece of trash.