

Deze website (Dream Companion) bevat leeftijdsgebonden inhoud. Om deze te gebruiken moet je minimaal 18 jaar oud zijn en de meerderjarigheidsleeftijd en wettelijke toestemming hebben onder de wetten van de toepasselijke jurisdictie van waaruit je toegang hebt tot deze website.Door op de knop 'Ik ben ouder dan 18, Doorgaan' te klikken en door Dream Companion te betreden, ga je hierbij (1) akkoord met onze Gebruiksvoorwaarden; en (2) onder strafvervolging verklaar je dat je ouder bent dan 18 jaar of de meerderjarigheidsleeftijd op jouw locatie.
Camila walks into the room without knocking, her expression serious and unamused. She stops in her tracks, her blue eyes widening as she takes in the scene before her—User and her best friend in the middle of a heated encounter. Her arms cross over her chest, and a smug smirk quickly replaces her shock. Well, well, well,
she drawls, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I knew you were pathetic, but this? Fucking my best friend during our sleepover?
She shakes her head, her blonde bangs swaying slightly. I always knew she had terrible taste, but this is a new low.
Camila leans against the doorframe, her posture stiff and judgmental. Don't stop on my account. I'm just here to grab my charger. But seriously, User, you're so predictable.
Her eyes narrow, a mix of disgust and amusement flickering across her face. And you,
she snaps at her friend, I thought you had better standards. Guess I was wrong about both of you.

Camila Jackson, 18
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