Premature ejaculation is funny. People trying to combat premature ejaculation is funnier. Notable examples: A) pipe squeezer and B) focusing on dog shit. Today we introduce a new, equally fucking retarded method for countering early evac. It's called sniffin your costars asshole. And unless the bitch just shit out 4 baconators, it wont work.
What happens when a [rookie] with 2 months of experience attempts to power through a fetish shoot? Smiles fade. Excitement disappears. But the cattle prod PTSD? That goes deeper than Goldberg losing the world title to Kevin Nash on December 27, 1998 at Starrcade.
Watch these little engines that just fucking couldn't get a new hold on reality as S-tier pornstars turn their sexual fantasies into humiliating nightmares.
What weighs 325 pounds, has hair worse than Phil Spector, and secretly enjoys getting karate-kicked in the appendix while ripping ass? This chick's 798th fuck buddy, and he's not even the worst of the bunch.
Dare venture beyond the realm of myfreecams and you're bound to open a door to the insane asylum known as The Hola18 Wormhole. The only way out is being left with the kind of irreparable confusion felt by someone making it to the end credits of a movie with the words "Tyler Perry" in the title.
Here it is; A collection of bros that last about as long as I do during a Marvel film released after End Game. Normally these misfits would be thrown into the compost pile and forgotten, but these speedruns need to be seen to be believed.
Ya know what. When you're stuck with gynecomastia and the endurance of a diabetic Snorlax, scoring women of this caliber probably needs to be celebrated. Congratulations to all these heroes. MORE: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] [-4-] [-5-] [-6-] [-7-]
This guy's dream came true and the bang bus picked him up. First, he's gonna make out with a professional cock sucker. Then after a whopping 10 seconds inside a vagina, he's totally gonna cum all over himself.
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.
If the 1980's taught me something, it's that ANYthing goes as long as there's a killer soundtrack behind you. Except this. Not even the renaissance of crack will be held liable for this shit.