Flat-chested girls everywhere rejoice because there's worse things in life than having no tits. You could have weird tits and add implants, leaving you with gigantic weird sideshow tits. And back problems.
Amber Rayne climbs to the top of America's Most Wanted. Alanah Rae is in desperate need for Dr. Phillip. And the girl at the end has no officially listed name, and that's the bottom line because Stone Cold Steve Autism said so.
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.
Of all the ways to absolutely starch what's left of your testosterone, scarfing down two hefty servings of second hand bro snow was not on my bingo card. But it's 2025, so it probably should have been. obv my fault.
There's really nothing more emasculating than getting taunted over your sexual inadequacies, save for maybe your mom walking in on you as you spank it to Robin Williams in Jumanji. The point is... Jumanji is a great movie and unfairly disregarded.
Somebody in the original comments was yappin about no proof this is his first time. My main man; 3 seconds of glazing over this specimen's choice in facial hair, vocabulary and thinking CPR is a form a cunnilingus says otherwise. Peep another awkward rookie [here].
Do their porno dreams come true? Fuck no. Instead, four average-ass mother fuckers attempt to make sex with the prestigious Christy Mack, and each and every one of them brutally embarrasses themselves.
Found this gem in the Italian film "Capodanno in Casa Curiello", which roughly translates to "New Years at Grandpa's House". Think combining the gothic undertones of The Adam's Family with the threatening erections of Boogie Nights wouldn't work? You thought wrong faggit.
Imagine making it to the last clip of this degenerate fever dream and still thinking everything's gonna be alright. We are six (or seven) kinds of fucked if this conduct continues. James Sunderland sends his regards. More of Scene 1 [HERE].
