A pair of seasoned rectal specialists agree to shoot a scene with a girl less experienced in butt fuckery than an Amish housewife. Points for trying to stick it out until the end, but let me tell you; It's all fun and games until Fransisco & Co. are face-to-ass with last night's carne asada.
I don't know what rally that last girl ditched to shoot this scene, but her hygiene makes about as much sense as the 43,000 volts she pretends are running through her labia every time a guy named Ranjeete slaps down 50 Rupees on her "PubLiC cUmShOWs" ala Chaturbate.
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.
Girls this determined to finish are hard to find without an Olympian background, so consider yourself lucky. Both for getting to bear witness to this unstoppable force, and for not having to be the one to explain the beef bourguignon shit stains on mom's new comforter.
Irrationally sized flobberweavels, a urethra that's suffered more abuse than whoever the fuck bought Barstool for $500 mil and the recreation of a classic in glorious high(er) definition. Don't think of this as the balanced breakfast you need, think of it as the one you deserve.
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.
What in the cornbread skidmark hell is going on with this generation? Once upon a time having the genetic configuration of a Madagascar tomato frog would limit your partners to Walmart shoppers. Now? No one even pumps the brakes. Support [HERE] [HERE] and [HERE]
I have a totally epic attraction like lol. only fuck you once under. Don't I ever include not a fucking internet return entry. so really serious like you know i love like you, only u r so easy living free.
A five minute crash-course on how to squeeze every moment out of your favorite side piece, as illustrated by the shameless, the morally-deprived, and the defenders of all things Insane Clown Posse. It's priceless information really. Trust me on this one.
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.
