That doesn't even look too fun. Her tits look like tomatoes on the verge of exploding. I never realized breasts were so durable. Not only do they come in handy for whatever the fuck you'd call this shit, but they also serve as excellent punching bags. They're multipurpose, unlike my penis.
Start Door Dashing your scottish woodcocks, and fire up the Tay Tay playlist because you're about to witness the pinnacle of crossbreeding the Starship Troopers prequel we never got with a porn studio that actually has funding. Ridley Scott; Take notes.
She escaped communist China in search of a better life. Only to find herself in a Detroit warehouse angrily jerking off dudes and giving unhappy endings.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
It seems Allie Addison's apprehension levels are at zero, giving her little trouble with broski's maximum depth potential. And by little trouble, I mean the kind of potential organ rearrangement Art The Clown would be proud of.
Respect to the second girl [0:22 second mark] for being naturally gifted the amount of lip filler that could inflate the tire of a corn harvester, just injected into the wrong part of the body. It's anomalies like her that take these kinds of videos from "entertaining" to "autistic".
These porn producers, always so preoccupied with if they could, but never stopping to wonder if they should. I can't even imagine how awkward this scene must of been to film for everyone involved.
Back in the mid 1900's, she was Italy's "Original Pornstar". Today she's senile, decrepit and probably doesn't even know whats going on but someone let her out the nursing home for one last porno shoot.
It's mind over colon in the world of extreme anal porn and this busted bitch is a friggin' jedi master. Years of determination, training and butt hole abuse were all worth it to make this magical feat of beauty possible.
If attempting to monetize your most private confessions is any sign of a recession, I'd say we're at the tip of an iceberg that would make the dotcom bubble look like like an afterthought. I'll be expecting a lot more of this until Jim Cramer capitulates.
Another edition featuring triflin' ass hoes, hood rats of all kinds and a singing crack head with erectile problems. They call him Uncle Jim and he can do any unskilled miscellaneous task for the low-low.
