Pardon me while I go dip my eyeballs in acid.
The thrusting makes me spit my sex wee all over his disco stick. If I don’t strum the banjo to get my fallopian fish stock dripping from my slime hole, his cumtree is going to leave my hairy goblet resembling a blind cobbler’s thumb. Some girls are happy just to finger blast when they’re alone, but I can’t get off without having a squash in my clunge pool and a 9-iron up my poo pipe.
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