What? No Kesegowaase? I love to hate Kesegowaase and I’d love to be hatef*cked by him, gloriously rough and vicious: biting, scratching, hairpulling (I would love to pull his hair!), amidst brutal, punishing thrusts that feel so good that they should be illegal. (But I’d also love to be epic friends with benefits with him, getting dirty in all sorts of unusual locations to release the tension or pass our assassin downtime.)