2002-2004. An era of professionally produced pornography that should probably be forgotten. Not a single penetration was made, yet I feel like I've been fucked by spare tires and empty cans of Busch Light after sitting through this atrocity. The line dropped at 2:30 really makes you wonder how many Marlboro Miles these guy were paid for the scene.
Perhaps this can be classified as "small wiener compensation". It happens when homebois packing less meat than a vegetarian BBQ get discouraged by their girl's complete lack of excitement. Building a device that scalps your crotch is optional. Oh... you'll see.
Natalia Borodina died after her head was crushed in a topless holiday stunt gone wrong. The mom of one suffered serious injuries after smashing into a lamp post while leaning out of the passenger window of a car being driven by her friend Ivanna Boirachuk. As the car made its way down the street, it got too close to a curb and Borodina’s head hit a street sign. It’s unclear exactly how fast the car had been traveling at the time of impact.
idk what the fuck is going on in that last clip. But if that isn't the body type of a woman that's muttered the words 'i used dijon mustard as lubricant while losing my virginity to a neighbor's pontiac fiero' at Festivus dinner, idk what is. Now apologize to the laws of thermal dynamics.
To find a man truly worthy of this title we must dig deep into the early days of internet pornography. A time when potato quality was top notch and only took 2 hours to download.
It's not like Woodman sending 18 year old girls to the Depends section at Super Walmart is some sort of secret, so one has to question the motives at this point. Is it an act? Are they sadomasochists? And most importantly: If Ronda Rousey were to crowbar her vagina open, would it be comparable to the consistency of pulling apart a peanut butter sandwich?
A pair of seasoned rectal specialists agree to shoot a scene with a girl less experienced in butt fuckery than an Amish housewife. Points for trying to stick it out until the end, but let me tell you; It's all fun and games until Fransisco & Co. are face-to-ass with last night's carne asada.
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.
Undoubtedly the most erotic thing I've seen since responding to an OKCupid message from a girl named The Violator. Results were similar if you replace 'cumshot' with 'Hellmans Tartar Sauce'. And 'private affair' with 'Burger King during rush hour'.
The downside to dating a girl with the self-awareness of a TikTok investor? Literally nothing. Not even an unannounced visit to vegemite valley is enough to send her running. Either we have a cold-blooded liar on our hands, or that pudding hatch is spring-loaded.
