Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
This is all but guaranteed to eradicate any story you may have been led to believe about how hard it is to interact with an established pornstar. Now the countdown begins until the protein-maxing gym bros discover this one simple trick.
The more this behavior becomes mainstream, the harder it's going to be to come back from. Just ask the portfolios of any person that's posted on r/wallstreetbets. [more here]
A solid plot line can make up for just about anything: Bad acting, low budgets, the marionette scene in Terrifier 2. But this assortment of genetic defects? They've got digital footprints like Tom Cruise has regressive Aspergers, and I don't know when this fucking ride is gonna end.
Not exactly the most unexpected chain of events from a class of people that come less prepared for war than whoevers handicap stall I invaded at Waffle House last week. Sorry Wheels, but the bucket in the janitor's closet simply doesn't meet my capacity standard.
3.5 minutes worth of reasons to never take your pants off without agreeing to the terms first. Especially the Lily Phillips clip. Two years later and somehow this specimen keeps managing to produce videos that would put a Victorian citizen into a coma.
Turns out there's absolutely no shortage of individuals that consider teaching their penis the macarena a societal norm. A Superb technique no doubt, but probably not for beginners. Chances are you'll misjudge one 360 no-scope and catch a local in the crossfire. It's called "The Ben Roethlisberger" and it'll make you wish you kept the half boners at home.
Remember the frigid chick that randomly started sobbing in the middle of a Rocco shoot? It was actually pretty touching, to both my heart & my penis. But apparently that encounter was only chapter 1 in a saga of piss-poor decisions.
