This is why I carry a 12oz bottle of my mace in my center console. Rest stops are great for quick 'on the road' jackoff sessions but they're almost always laden with dirty old men looking to score free peep shows. If they want to see me make love to myself, they gotta pay... otherwise it's mace to the face.
Bittersweet painal, obscenity-filled orgasms, and a boob job predating the bicentennial. 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.
A special service bulletin for the female viewer(s). Next time you feel like exposing your rotten tator tot to the general public, read a couple chapters of Everything I Know About Women I Learned From My Tractor by Roger Welsch first. Maybe you'll find what's missing in your life.
A free tip for those watching: If you ever find yourself in this situation, scarf down one of those blooming onions beforehand. The person on the other side of your biological banana canon will be gifted a soundtrack AI could never replicate. Don't ask me how I know.
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.
I'll go ahead and pass on the van life vibes half of these participants are exhibiting, but it's still better than what passes for the norm today: Cosplaying as a gAmEr guRL that rations bathwater for tier-3 subscribtions and "whoopsies" her way through milk toast sexual acts. Pay close attention to that last clip my ever growing OF creators: This is the content we want.
A pair of seasoned rectal specialists agree to shoot a scene with a girl less experienced in butt fuckery than an Amish housewife. Points for trying to stick it out until the end, but let me tell you; It's all fun and games until Fransisco & Co. are face-to-ass with last night's carne asada.
Started from the bottom, now we're here. And by here I mean vigorously being tested for sexually transmitted diseases because Dustin from the Target parking lot insisted on not using any form of protection during his big moment. More Blake Blossom here where she apparently streams on Twitch now?
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.
