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.
Long before there was "help me stepbro!", there was "have you ever seen your mom naked?". The difference? People wouldn't (normally) contaminate a box of Kleenex's finest to radio shows. Social media was and still is our biggest evolutionary mistake.
Not since ejaculating to Samuel L Jackson's death scene in Deep Blue Sea have I felt this much cinematographic remorse. They just let his wonder worm flap around without even an attempt at Photoshop. Five more leading roles like this and she'll be ready for Paul Anderson.
Today's episode isn't about the money. It's about sending a message. Specifically to the derelicts that have used the Riemann hypothesis and Swinnerton-Dyer conjecture to justify paying for what you're about to see: Stop it. Get some help.
Just when you think Brittany Bardot's HorrorPorn content was the most remorseful way to leave wet spots in your denim dungarees, she goes and shoots something like this. Sure is an interesting way of servicing the community tho. While normies reserve their public reamings for the Best Buy customer service line; she started her charity work at home.
Some women that happen to look like rejected "Lord of the Rings" characters find themselves in a cheap hotel room, making a porn movie so atrocious that even the producer wouldn't show up to film it.
Just what in the fucking Doogie Howser, M.D. are we witnessing here? I'd give him the big W for going the distance... but no amount of THOT slaying in the world is going to change the unfortunate genetic make up of that boogie board he calls a body. Congrats?
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.
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.
New fetish unlocked at the 2:35 mark: Wearing your friends fish purses like a pair of Jimmy Choo platforms. Except in this version you don't have to cough up a mortgage payment on 5th avenue before getting ankle deep in fashion week. Bargain of the century. [more: Y809Y]
