Everybody has a gift. For some, it's convincing solid 4's to double up on their bald headed field mice while simultaneously solving a sudoku. For others, it's knitting. But that last girl? Whoever is writing the next Final Destination movie better start taking some fucking notes.
Anytime you want to validate the authenticity of something like this, just look at the socks. That paired with the aroma of gas station hot dogs has historically proven to be a combination you simply can not recreate recreationally.
The more inbreeding in your bloodline, the further you'll go to seek sexual satisfaction. A simple concept, officially reinforced by whatever director's cut episode of Survivor Man is going on in that last clip. I'll put it this way; in comparison it makes Jeppson's Malort seem like a fucking delicacy. It's that abhorrent.
Every girl should know that a slippery fuck toy plus a cavernous butthole can equal a trip to the ER. Next time save yourself the embarrassing shuffle through the waiting room and tie a string to that mother fucker.
It's not even the fact that these fetishes exist. It's that some of these creaturas are banking a yearly salary after swimming through an Arby's dumpster for 3 minutes so Jungle Jack in Frogdick Mississippi can have beat off material for the week. We might not be in end times. But intermission was a long time ago.
Some real memorable facial expressions in this one. Almost as if she can't believe someone would pay good money to hookup with a person possessing less sexual prowess than a New York City hotdog, and still achieve climax. 4/10; would penetrate again.
Before you ask why the mutant at 1:05 is included, I want you to take a good long look at that weapon of mass destruction. With those dimensions you'd think his question mark lookin ass would be too busy fighting Peter Pan instead of driving the female community to abstinence.
I could be in the minority here, but Barnum & Bailey should be kept as far away as possible from any and all sexual situations. If I wanted to be repeatedly violated by a clown, I'd pay for a day trading discord. Pretty amazing body tho. [-RELEVANT-]
After making it to the end of this one you may want to set some boundaries on your future sexual curiosities. Either that or just start fucking the neighbor's lawn mower in between trimmings because it's a lot easier to explain than this.
You can brag about your triple digit IQ all you want bruh. If you're not using it to turn your asshole into a bowl of Bob Evans Mashed Potatoes it's about as useful as a hot shower is to this classic r-word.
[she] claims her oldest body is somewhere in between "i trade crypto while working at Walmart" and "the first signs of adult onset diabetes" age range. But today that ceiling is getting mashed. Because our boy toothless wouldn't be able to eat them any other way.
