Some "feels" I am glad I will never experience in life. Driving the speed limit, menstrual cramps, bamboo fingernail torture, or when a unlubed and unwelcome penis randomly kicks open the door to the house of pain.
Nothing gets an appointment with the clinic booked faster than going skin on skin with east Asia's most notorious time bender. So here's 4 minutes worth. That's right, four. As in the number of Abreva pills she'll need to take per day for the rest of her life after becoming a victim to Venkman's ectoplasm.
An all-minority female cast ultimately leading to me losing faith in life itself? You can go ahead and file this under The 2016 Ghostbusters Reboot of Porn. And Bill Murray can't save you this time.
It's time to tackle a topic that has gone unanswered for far too long. And today we're doing it in such a way that'll leave you questioning both the average tolerance of the female sphincter and who should have really been the final boss of Monster Hunter Wilds. [my vote is cast]
So you think Dr. Phil has covered all the bases of marital disasters? Well it's time to reevaluate bitch. These pioneers of female empowerment do it all. And by all I mean everything except give us the long awaited sequel to Karen's Krapper: Volume 27. Alexa, play Big Bottom by Spinal Tap.
If you think that number is talking about hog dimensions, you will be sorely mistaken. It seems this attraction has stricter height limitations than Six Flag's El Toro. You gotta measure less than 4 feet tall, well-versed in THOTology and be next in line for a fight with Jake Paul. Brutal. Part 1 [HERE] Part 2 [HERE] Support [HERE]
If the first chick doesn't have the look of a girl that's admitted to losing her virginity to a mailbox, I don't know what is. A moment that was probably about as unintentional as me using Cowabunga Bay Water's wave pool as my own personal porta potty. Apologies to visitors between years of 1998 - 2013.
Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
It may not be explicitly written in the rule book, but there's only one translation for the body language on the girl going Milli Vanilli on herself. And it exists somewhere in between "Car Batteries Are Not Sex Toys" and "Oops My Asshole Fell Out".
You gotta admire commitment in anything. This young lady was so devoted to the scene that when it came to anal, she soldiered through it. When it came time for the cum shot, she fellates his fecal flavored ram rod without hesitation.
Great body. Classic look. Even has the courtesy to scrub daddy her dirty walnut before doing the coney island cha cha. There were definitely a couple moments of genuine concern on her face, but now you know why wedding rings exist. [song]
There's something truly endearing about a girl that takes the Secret of the Ooze Super Shredder of BBCs, then double downs on being a stable human being. Her talents scream "3 more months of practice and my asshole will out-perform any South American footlocker".
