Poor prosti gets sandbagged by a local gentleman who's only sexual experience involves Walmart's checkout line & Colt 45. But apparently her dugout is built for the major leagues, cause despite his John McLane ingenuity... she still walks away with a smile. Fucking amazing.
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.
Two things you should definitely abandon before agreeing to have sex with total strangers: Self-respect and Beef-a-roni. One of these is more important than the other, and I'm just gonna let you figure out what order they should be in.
The name "Big Bertha" comes from a giant Pre-Nazi German war cannon that would lob 1,800 lb explosive shells into shit like France and Belgium. It also happens to look like this bitches dick.
If you we're an emotionally messed up prostitute, I'm sure you would fucking hate talking about your life too. But would you hate it more then sucking the dick of a self-titled "crack whore connoisseur"? More crazy in the source link.
Volume #5 in a collection of videos that Charlie Sheen would be ashamed to attach his name to. And without even a single appearance from a graduate of the Woodman School of Rectology, that's saying something.
I'm no expert, but we may be reaching ultra critical levels of unforgivable shamelessness here. Or as the Italians used to call it; "Exterminus Adversus Slutterdominous". Now call your parents and tell them what you learned today.
The only thing more arousing than a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale, is the sequel of a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale. I don't know about you but my shrimp roll just got supersized.
The lore actually goes deeper than you could have ever imagined. It's not about the volume of anonymous vagabond cocks. It's not about the money. It's about sending a [fucking] message.
Watching [girls like this] bait the socially inept into a monthly subscription reminds me of a black widow documentary I once accidentally watched for 2 hours. All that's missing is David Attenboroughs voice and an invigorating supply of Cialis.
