We're talking themes here, not the first time breaking the seal on her unmarinated waffle stomped shit biscuit. While that does still maintain spry elasticity, I'll bet dollars to donuts it has more miles on it than grandads prized El Camino. More Kylie Island [here] and [here]
For a box that probably has more miles on it than grandads '69 Chevelle; it's in stellar condition. In fact, it might be setting the bar too high for fellow terrorKink enthusiasts to follow. I don't know if I should be impressed or slide in those DM's and ask for the cattle prod discounts. According to this video, they do exist. More RDG [HERE] and [HERE]
Our boy successfully pulls off one of the audibles taught in Bang: More Lays in 60 Days, but the tables quickly turn on him. From then on it's a battle of egos as this greenhorn frolics through her first rear admiral'ing like it's a full body massage. There won't be a sequel.
It's mind over colon in the world of extreme anal porn and this busted bitch is a friggin' jedi master. Years of determination, training and butt hole abuse were all worth it to make this magical feat of beauty possible.
First attempts at delivering a beat down in meat town [1:53], a possible Resident Evil 4 cosplay [3:27] and a language barrier so ridiculous I might have to give the girl her own special section on this site in the future. [4:17] If your Tinder profile doesn't have the words butt poosy fuck on it, why even try?
A couple of yahoos get caught mashin potatoes during happy hour. Not very conspicuous about it either. Remember that one weirdo in school that always dropped his pants to the floor in front of the urinal? This is what happens when he grows up.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
