The rules of engagement have changed. If you want attention in 2024, it's going to take a lot more than hangin brain in the checkout line at Hot Topic. So sit back and take notes ladies: It's this kind of work ethic that springboards you from "girlfriend" to "girlwife".
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
Pretty bold behavior. But while you're in an eBay bidding war for the wet spot left behind in the 3rd video, I'll be reminiscing about the underground sludge deathcore viking metal show I saw last week. It went from casual music festival, to full blown AIDS epidemic when 1 reckless twat turned her vayjay into a full serve cock car wash. I YELP'd the venue 5-stars.
I've never seen Gianna cave before, no matter how big the cock. It's as if her vaginal canal is made of Teflon, with more square footage than James Van Der Beek's forehead. But after watching this, I'm not so sure.
Not since the 2005 release of 1 Night In Chyna have I seen a woman with such a fucked up misunderstanding of eroticism. She grunts like pirate, pisses all over the place, and has a finishing act that'll assfuck your brain cells.
When it's a girl's first time doing hardcore porn and she's too nervous on camera to put two syllables together, you get what I imagine to be the closest experience to fucking a corpse you can have without taking a trip to the morgue. Luckily the awkwardness only makes me harder.
What's that old saying again? If a mint condition cornhole exists, Pierre Woodman will abuse it more than a penalty shot kicker from England? Unlike Snaggletooth McButtfuck over here, those three lads can sit down on a hard surface for the next month without consequence.
idk what exit strategy the mutant in the last clip is planning on, but this shit doesn't work for me brother. Seriously it's over for you and any unsuspecting Amish person you hire to tailor-make a pair of Fruit of The Looms wide enough to hide that monstrosity from the world.
Little engines that just fucking couldn't. If there was a "Special Olympics" for sexual performance, these guys would still be the underdogs of the league.
