Her vagina lips looked like they belonged in an Arbys roast beef sandwhich. This was bad for her career so she set out on a perilous journey to unbeef her pussy and close the gape once and for all.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down Milli Vanilli's splash damage was the last fucking thing I had my bingus card. Watching a stranger crack your s/o's purple turkey just doesn't make sense to me. Then again, anytime someone makes middle aged women squeal like a 2 for 1 HomeGoods sale, eyebrows are raised.
3:40 is today's highlight. The fact that this behavior generates sustainable income blows my mind. Imagine taking one of those suburban mass shooter interrogation videos and crossbreeding it with Pepto Bismol. Then masturbate with steel wool cause that's the pain I feel watching.
Only 30% of these genetic anomalies come from Japan. The rest? Homegrown in the ole' U S of A. They could be your neighbors, your mailmen, even the friend you pay in Wendy's frosty coupons to perform the pittsburgh coal miner. Either way, they are among us.
Perhaps 'audible' is the wrong word to use here, as it suggests this misfit anticipated the scene going any other possible way. She didn't. Trust me. I've been inside a Walmart parking lot on a Friday night - I know what I'm talking about.
The man. The myth. The cease and desists from Keebler elves. This is the definitive collection of the 4 foot pitbull known as [El Pony DeBilbao]. Not really a warning, but his approach to sexual intercourse may produce a bag of mixed emotions.
Enter the strange world of MyFreeCams. Where internet prostitutes webcam models do weird shit for cyber money, like sexually teasing the local pizza delivery guy. What could go wrong?
I'm not sure a woman with more parking space between her gooch than New York City is on my list of "boner material". But it's 2026 and trying new things was one of the resolutions. Right between losing 19lbs and using toilet paper.
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.
