This one starts out as your typical day in Okinawa, but it looks like there's a tinge of legitimate concern before the credits roll. Guess it's just another one of those unfortunate side effects from engaging with a part of the world that considers mixed martial arts a form of roleplay.
Behind the scenes of a classy title like "Lesbian Bukkake #8" is something like you could never imagine. Ever wonder what it's like behind the scenes? Probably not, but sometimes these thots fail in epic fashion and it's hilarious.
Not every one of today's carousel of evolutionary's most gifted were born with the poker face of Clint Eastwood. So when you bare witness to the equivalent of a vaginal SCUD missile, understand it took practice to get here. [more]
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
Let me tell ya something champ: I've seen some loathsome shit in my day: Tijuana farm hopping, suggestive photos of Willem Dafoe, and whatever that Ghostbusters reboot was. But this? This made me boil a pot of chamomile tea and tell my dick a bedtime story. [OP]
The "Pepe le Pew" of porn finds out his costar is half an X-men with titanium rods installed on her spin. Woodman's response? An absolute fucking hurricane of verbal and physical assaulting that would make Chris Brown look like Charlie Brown lol.
If you thought we were going to make it through 3 volumes of woman decorating their reproductive systems with everything that isn't bolted down at Home Goods, and not get a single appearance by the only pornstar that could land a Dyson sponsorship; you thought wrong. And quite frankly, I'm a little disappointed. Also RIP Rowdy Piper.
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the body type/skin tone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a hero for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
Scene's over and it's time to go home... but first this starlet has a complete mental unraveling. Her tears and plight do little more than generate awkward lulz and kill the mood for the next girl.
The only thing more arousing than a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale, is the sequel of a mother renting our her own flesh and blood to the tune of a 2 for 1 BOGO flash sale. I don't know about you but my shrimp roll just got supersized.
The "South Floridian's Guide To Dating Your Cousin" or Kylie Island dropping that new fetish DLC? You're probably waiting out the future aftermath videos from her now. The kind that can also be achieved by renting a John Deer tractor and filling her with Oxycontin. But where's the chivalry in that?
