Ya know for a girl that's spent this much time in tattoo parlors, you'd think a forehead big enough for UBER to charge $17 to go from nose to scalp would get a little bit more attention. Then again, something tells me rational thinking isn't one of the tenants of someone who writes "when I fuck i dont give a fuck" 6 inches away from their shitter.
Feast your eyes on a collection of o-faces so outlandish, it would be impossible to get a nut off in public without being caught. Especially if they are a distance shooter. Chances are they'll let loose near an active bus stop and catch one of the locals in the crossfire. It's called "The Cuban Waterslide" and I'm still paying the price for it to this day.
Great body. Classic look. Even has the courtesy to scrub daddy her dirty walnut before doing the coney island cha cha. There were definitely a couple moments of genuine concern on her face, but now you know why wedding rings exist. [song]
Becky Bagels foolishly thinks her road trip to the swampland is going to be an uneventful one. That is, until her travel guide delivers the kind of backdoor beatdown that insurance companies are suddenly starting to add in-network coverage for. Many such cases.
Go ahead and label this the blurring of lines between equality in the work place and PTSD, as illustrated by sex acts that have led more adult diaper sales than In n' Out's Animal Style. Never before has adult entertainment made me prouder of my cataclysmic cache of Walmart rewards points.
He came packing a mullet, social-awkwardness and the bodytype/skintone of a marsh mellow with prescription glasses. But that day back in 1998, he was a God for 10 minutes at a gentleman's club in Arkansas.
Tiny Texie is built like an action figure and Cotton Candi is 1 Wendy's coupon book away from putting the entire insulin industry on tilt. In other words: This may be the greatest love story our generation has ever told.
Auto-fellaters, Braingasms and a straight up public service announcement fists should only be use in a boxing ring. Today's episode is more unforgiving than my local mall security that time I was discovered defecating in Anthropologie's Aromatic and Ambiance fragrance section.
Apparently Clayton Bigsby has an extended bloodline we were completely unaware of. Practice what you're about to see here & I promise - those pesky NPC'S will never scream "racism" again.
Yeah sure, looks neat now... but wait for the follow up video in a year when the labia is hanging like two flappy pancakes with weird scar-holes looking like some shit outta Hellraiser.
I don't think she wanted her clit pierced, but she asks her boyfriend if he was sure about it and he assured her he was. She goes between pain, pleasure and ends up in tiny convulsions. Fun times!
