Not really surprising from a girl that calls herself Wisconsin Tiff, but the alternative medicine excuse for this behavior immediately goes out the window. Can't even blame the moon lettuce and it's sibling psychedelics for this digital footprint.
This actually starts off as a painal vid, but much like Cuba Gooding Jr.'s acting career, that only lasts for about 14 seconds. From there on it's all pleasure, and by 'pleasure' I mean nervous system-disabling assgasms so hot even Stephen Hawking would pop wood.
Here it is. Round 2 in what is arguably the most offensive thing you can do in public besides mothershipping the handicap stall at Baskin Robbins. But unlike those shit gremlins - these titans of societal norms actually film the entire thing.
Not the first video that's made me question the female body, but it may be the only Efukt feature that gets into a Bubballoo Gum commercial. People deserve a little reality on their television. Not Dwight Shrute hosting a swap meet in Frog Balls Arkansas. Now where's that royalty check?
Interracial doll play, stickam webcam bitrates and public humiliation at a Pepboys garage. No, it's not the secret combination to unlock 2022. It's round #5 in the OF saga, because... there's no fucking lack of women baiting the socially inept into monthly subscriptions. PARTS: [1] [2] [3] [4]
The Spider-man of rope slinging is back and setting records Guinness refuses to recognize for some reason. Something about prosthetic nutsacs and bannable material. Well... he's legit and I have the research to prove it. [PART I]
AKA "how to ruin your reputation on a global scale." Usually it's a good thing if everyone gets laid at a party... but not when they all fucked the same chubby std collector.
The time has come for the followup of a story that will be told in the Internet history books. So strap in and prepare to have your yamaka blown the fuck off, cause we're going on a trip that involves domestic abuse, race rage white supremacy and about 937 reasons not to get married. [Part 1]
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.
It truly never ends. Let's just label this one the Shawshank Redemption of "wtf, your load tastes like Alan Greenspan's deceased asshole" Alan probably isn't actually dead, but I trust that the implied mental image is still effective. Game on.
