I'm all for testing boundaries, but caution should be advised if you want to attempt any of these yourself. Tip: When testing those Special Team plays you saw online, it's best to practice first. PROOF: The $4500 bill I have for buying this.
Bittersweet painal, obscenity-filled orgasms, and a boob job predating the bicentennial. This ones got it all, and Ms. Big Ole Leathery Funbags earns some serious bonus points at the 2:35 mark.. Not even a fuckin rectal injury can dull her desire for ATM.
Moscow drug mule gets into a personal world war with her own rectum, most likely the result of an all kholodets diet (look it up). Jiggy Saw himself once said: "When there's that much poison in your blood, the only thing left to do, is shoot yourself." In other words; She attempted to no-scope and succeeded beautifully.
It's always the same thing: Your favorite e-piece succumbs to the competition and proceeds to push her stream to the next level... only to deteriorate her street cred faster than my rectal lining at a Bangladeshi farmer's market.
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.
You know you're in some sort of bat shit crazy porn renaissance when Japan comes in last on the list of things you shouldn't masturbate to. Between the Tijuana down syndrome family plan and whatever the fuck Insane Clown Posse is doing at 1:45, idk if I should cum or cry.
To call this girl a boring bang would be the understatement of the damn millennium. I'll put it this way: If you combined a gender studies course with the PGA, you'd still need a 3 hour Al Gore audio book and jumper cables to match pulses with this fucking corpse. You've been warned.
If there's one thing that never fails to get me questioning the future of this whole human race experiment; it's what the most unassuming person will consider a sexual accessory. So here's about 6 of them. That's right, six. As in the number of times I replayed the noise that Pringles can made when ricocheting off her head.
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.
