One man's quest for counterfeit Dockers ends with a lustrous rub n' tug, courtesy of Miss Swan, in what's quite possibly the only legitimate 'happy ending' video in existence. It's hard to turn a blind eye to the shrek factor of all ladies involved, but hey... at least it's real.
This girl will either steal your heart like it originally belonged to her anyway or annoy you into destroying something beautiful. For me it was her strong beliefs on pokemon and those back dimples that melted my cold heart.
The only time I've seen self-harming determination this powerful was in the /terraluna subreddit. And much like the ability to ejaculate to one of these anomalies, I think it's time to pack it up and admit defeat boys. disclaimer: This is not financial advice [you retard].
Congratz! Local Russian folklore states that if you are visited by the naked battle gypsy of St. Pete you will be forever blessed by good fortune. Don't look directly at her vagina though, or they say she'll curse you with impotence.
Not the caliber of female I expected to see on the angry side of Simon Belmont, but I'll roll with the fantasy. Unfortunately there's no aftermath footage, but I would have to imagine by the time this was over it looked like she masturbated with a stick of dynamite.
First time I've seen a wife rental video where the girl and her hired gun are left more humiliated than the husband. 7 1/2 inches of New Orlean's finest essentially left them completely mute, save for some sobbing that is usually reserved for the customer service desk at Lululemon. Hilarious.
The Oakland Doorknob. German Knuckle Cake. Mongolian Taco Punching. Not buying Bitcoin when it was 73 cents. It goes by a lotta different names. But the shame... thats always the same.
Pigs flying, A Manson Family Hanukkah special and clean underwear after all-you-can-eat Chinese food. These are all things I expected to see long before a man that has mastered the art of hands-free ejacs. Next time do it into the palm of a guy named Carlos. It's called the Puerto Rican Panhandle, I invented it.
I can't imagine what life decisions lead to your obituary being littered with the words "twerking" and "public nuisance" and "30,000 volts". But I'm betting it involves the neighbor's parakeet, and all 16 delicious flavors of Rice-a-Roni. (fuck you Rice Pilaf)
