James Deen slings his gentleman juice down one mouth too many in this tragic outtake from Tonsil Hockey. Moral of the story is simple. Never leave your piehole agape when you're on the business end of a 12 inch cock. haha.
Whore #3 is quite adorable. She may not understand the consequences, but her facial expressions certainly have a story to tell.. namely "ouch, that hurts", "please hurry up" and "why in the fuck did I quit my job at Hotdog On A Stick for this shit". Live and learn baby.
From the bowels of world star hip hop comes a little gem that's straight outta Compton! Staring a wild wildebeest that has been caught fellating a local hoodlum in the middle of the street. Some real ratchet shit yo!
Say hello to your new idol. He's a recent graduate from the WWE school of acting for the mentally challenged and still manages to pull more suburban MILF poon then a 4-starred gynecologist on YELP. This particular desperate housewife is a prime example of why you should always FYD.
Tripling down on a sub-culture that has defied all odds and normalized paying for content less interesting than giving Betty White 15 unsupervised minutes with a lawn sprinkler. These hype machines never seem to deliver. But the ones that come up really short? These might get a nut or 5 out of you. [PART I] [PART II]
Emphasis on the 2nd clip. I laughed, I cried, I wondered if this was the backup plan for Cliff Hanger 2 if Stallone's medicine cabinet ran out of human growth hormone. And now you get to experience the same thing for the ultra low price of $0.00. Suck it Apple Vision Pro.
Take one part anime, one part pornography, one part Mortal Kombat and you end up with a hilarious show about ninja school girls sexually man-slaughtering perverted villains around campus.
Nothing quite spells EFUKT like a supposed 'Navy Seal' turned male pornstar challenging 80+ CSUN students to a backyard brawl, whilst completely naked and armed with nothing but a slowly deflating boner. HAHA.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.