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.
Some of you may be asking the question: "How the hell did it take you so long to get something together for [Hannah Hays]? The fuckin story writes itself.". Honestly... it's overwhelming. Her rabbit hole seems to have more alternate endings than Baldur’s Gate 3.
The 4:30 mark will be the breaking point for some of you. Is it real? Will you ever look at BFG Division the same again? Did I free throw one into the sink at Starbucks from the foul line because their stall was locked off this morning? All these questions have the same answer.
Apparently this is common in the grottos of Nigeria. I'm not so sure about it's entertainment value though. Some will look at this and see the peak of female empowerment... all I see is a barbecue even Homer fucking Simpson himself would've RSVP to.
There are 2 kinds of people in this world: Those who respect the human bodies maximum pounds-per-square inch tolerance, and those who do not. Guess which one is getting featured today? HINT: They've never had a flat tire in their life.
Nice face. Amazing body. It's the the choice in coworkers where she starts to lose me. To each their own, but personally I would prefer my sexual fantasies to have as little to do with osteoporosis as humanly possible. Bonus lulz at the [3:28] mark when our boy almost checks out mid-nutshot.
The more this behavior becomes mainstream, the harder it's going to be to come back from. Just ask the portfolios of any person that's posted on r/wallstreetbets. [more here]
Dare venture beyond the realm of myfreecams and you're bound to open a door to the insane asylum known as The Hola18 Wormhole. The only way out is being left with the kind of irreparable confusion felt by someone making it to the end credits of a movie with the words "Tyler Perry" in the title.
You know you had fun when the next day you wake up with a concussion and realize you not only left your phone, but you also forgot your clothes, underwear, sunglasses and self-respect at the club.