First he bulldozes her ass till his cock turns brown. Then he moves up an orifice and gives her twat some chocolate-coated TLC... which is pretty much guaranteed to result in a wicked case of vaginitis but lets not spoil the fun. All things come to an end after he asks the most amazing question ever uttered in a pornographic film - "who wants lasagna?"
Dude looks like he walked into a tattoo parlor and said "yes". Luckily he's hung like a brontosaurus to round out these constructive life decisions. Not sure I was expecting that twist at the end though. Kinda reinforcing the whole don't judge a book by it's cover thing, aren't we?
While padding your resume may not be something generally frowned upon when seeking an enhancement in your employment opportunities, safety should always be your first priority. And at least one change of your finest linens. Remember that, Greg.
A former lesbian is getting fucked in beast mode by professional pornstar cock, and her brain can't even handle it. She cums so hard she sheds happy tears and it's frickin' beautiful.
Say hello to your new idol. He's a recent graduate from the WWE school of acting for the mentally challenged and still manages to pull more suburban MILF poon then a 4-starred gynecologist on YELP. This particular desperate housewife is a prime example of why you should always FYD.
I like her face. I like her enthusiasm. But above all I like her devotion to commitment. Her borderline absent reaction to an explosive device detonating inside her spincther however, has reinforced my stance on late-term abortions. Like, 35 years late. Toss a token in the abyss via the source link.
Nothing says reinventing a franchise quite like admitting to the world that you have a fetish even the truckers of America aren't paying for in Walmart parking lots. Now give this so many views, The Rock won't be able to turn down being in the sequel.
An assembly of miscreants that may remind you of old Internet when people did everything imaginable for nothing more than access to a bottomless keg. Twitter didn't exist, OnlyFans wasn't a thought. It was just degens on the hunt for their next case of rabid vaginitis. [more]
If any of you ever want to launch one of those "Top 10 Ways to Make a Girl Break up With You" kind of blogs, make sure some of these specimens are on the list. Somewhere in between Fortnite themed flip flops, and listening to Ed Sheeran.
Listen: If you delinquents keep spamming your entire loadouts before the first checkpoint is captured, I'm gonna have to turn this into an official series. That kind of uncontrollable pressure reminds me of a romantic moment involving myself, a $20.00 bill and the McRib. Let's just say mom's Plymouth Vista got a new interior paint job that night. [PART I] [PART II]
