Hobo Jones coughs up 5 singles for a back alley knob-slob. Takes all but 23 seconds to reach climax, at which point he immediately helps himself to a full refund by forcefully robbing her and running for dear life... leaving her in the dust with a mouthful of bum cum! Instant classic.
It's always rough times for busted drug addicted cum dumpsters. Learn what it really takes to become a professional sexual punching bag for the below average Joe willing to risk STD's for cheap sex.
I bet you $3.50 and the remainder of my orange julius this loathsome creature is a thriving member of the furry community. Also: The one time a video on the Internet isn't fake and this is what you give me?
Go ahead and label this the blurring of lines between equality in the work place and PTSD, as illustrated by sex acts that have led more adult diaper sales than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my cataclysmic cache of Walmart rewards points.
Were you also gifted the sexual prowess of a polar bear on methamphetamines at birth? Well that only leaves 1 path for you to take in life. So if you share this lady's disposition, consider alternatives to Tinder. I'm thinking Farmersonly, without the farmers. Feel me?
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
Think your marriage is in trouble? Time to reevaluate things, Ham Hock. Today we have a pioneer of female empowerment that does it all. And by all I mean a.) buttsex b.) buttsex while wearing her wedding ring and admitting it on camera. yikes = big
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.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
Trying to convince your wife to participate in what can only be described as gathering of the juggalos that serves pasta salad? Bold. But her response? Giggling like she found an extra tender in her 4-piece. Relationships shlamationships.
