Enjoy, for this is undoubtedly the first, last and only time you'll ever see an 18 year old camwhore drunkenly dildo herself directly in front of her disapproving mom. In a word... FAP.
As we head towards the final sunset of a year that gave more than one reason to disembowel our own eyeballs with a stinger missile, it's time we reflected. May 2024 bestow upon us more trolls, deeper holes and Twitch.com finishing it's metamorphosis into Chaturbate.
Check her twat at the 1.55 mark. After no more than 15 seconds of diddling her clit, shit becomes the Niagra Falls of vaginal discharge. Camera dude says it's cum. I have 5 bucks and case of diet Mr. Pibb that says it's forgotten creampie from yesteryear.
The "Pepe le Pew" of porn finds out his costar is half an X-men with titanium rods installed on her spin. Woodman's response? An absolute fucking hurricane of verbal and physical assaulting that would make Chris Brown look like Charlie Brown lol.
Those crazy porn directors have made a full movie featuring the entire systematic sexual conditioning of ones daughter into a fuck buddy. All in magnificent POV. Disturbing? Sure. But is it fappable?
Bittersweet painal, obscenity-filled ogasms, and a boob job pre-dating the birth of jesus. This ones got it all, and Ms. Big Ole Leathery Funbags earns some serious bonus points at the 2:35 mark.. Not even a fuckin rectal injury can dull her desire for ATM.
I've seen this configuration before. Okinawa birth certificate, Chevy-Silverado endurance. I'd refer to Alexa for a proper translation, but Amazon hasn't released the Aspergers DLC yet so you're just gonna have to fill in the blanks yourselves, compadres.
This dude ejaculates Grey Poupon. Straight up. It's the most bedazzling shit I've seen since that picture of Jesus appearing on a dog's asshole. Be sure to keep a towel handy in case you vomit and/or nut.
Volume #5 in a collection of videos that Charlie Sheen would be ashamed to attach his name to. And without even a single appearance from a graduate of the Woodman School of Rectology, that's saying something.
Kinda off topic, but 8 hrs ago it seemed like a good idea to eat 64 slices of American Cheese and wash it down with a bottle of gin. Then someone had the gall to say Have a good morning to me. Listen mom, unless you have a sewing kit and extensive knowledge of battle wounds, your request is permanently denied.
Another chapter closed in a book that Barnes & Noble insists on displaying in the Sci-Fi section. Normally read in the dimly lit corner of a trailer park that doesn't show up on Google maps, surrounded by Newports and half-eaten cans of Costco's finest meatball ravioli.
