We as humans are at the fuckin' highest point of civilization we've ever achieved. Our technology is more advanced than ever before in history and recently, we put a dildo in orbit... Welcome to the new age.
Blue-balled midgets, schizophrenic autists, Miley Cyrus' fan base... this woman's sexual clientele is more well-rounded than IHOP's farmhouse breakfast. Unfortunately there's no visuals of penetration. But what it lacks in nightmares... it makes up for in California's voting pool.
Got a bunch of requests on the girl's name. And in early 2000's fashion, there's more of them than quarters in a football game. She's Michaelle aka Michelle aka Vanessa aka Victoria aka Viktoria and after [11 scenes] she hightailed it away from the BBC payroll.
Yeah uh... so is this what studio porn has evolved into? Because if I've lived to the point where people are actually spending money on producing cleverly disguised Cialis commercials we may have finally reached the bottom...
We're talking girth here. It's not often you see [siswet] tap out. At one point in time I was convinced this woman's asshole was going to be the solution to New York City's parking shortages. Now I see even the grand canyon itself has a capacity limit. Never meet your heros.
Anybody have the technical name for this phenomenon? or a real explanation? Specifically one that doesn't involve voodoo dolls, Penn & Teller or Planet Wing's suicide sauce. I want answers.
Amber Rayne climbs to the top of America's Most Wanted. Alanah Rae is in desperate need for Dr. Phillip. And the girl at the end has no officially listed name, and that's the bottom line because Stone Cold Steve Autism said so.
These porn producers, always so preoccupied with if they could, but never stopping to wonder if they should. I can't even imagine how awkward this scene must of been to film for everyone involved.
Consider this an open letter to the content creators out there: I will donate the $13.75 I made trading Krypto Kittys with down syndrome to a charity of your choosing, in exchange for promising to never use condiments on your wiener ever again. The balls are in your courts.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
