Hector and his 2.5 inch pop gun (their measurements, not mine) get an earful of criticism after disappointing a gang of size queens... and nailing himself in the forehead with his own payload. Sorry friend but I think it's best you take your cocktail sausage and head on back to that strawberry field you done crawled up out of.
I've never seen Gianna cave before, no matter how big the cock. It's as if her vaginal canal is made of Teflon, with more square footage than James Van Der Beek's forehead. But after watching this, I'm not so sure.
Show me a woman that puts this much emotion into her goose hole jabberwocky, and I'll show you the kind of 90-Day Fiance episodes actually worth watching. Now somebody knock down a retaining wall so big Ed can get his neck through the door, and lets start the sequel.
The insane story of an emotionally disabled prostitute/pornstar/sugar baby/urinal-for-hire with HPV and herpes that literally wrote the book - 9 times. She claims her dead sugar daddy made her a millionaire and now haunts her... wow.
What's mine is yours. And what's yours makes her think walking away from that 4-year degree in Anthropological Gender Studies of Amazonian Tree Frogs to do this instead was a bad idea.
Like the great Cosmosius of Kramer once said: It's a business of cornhole sodomy, nobody leaves. She's a seductress, she's a siren, she's a virgin, she's a whore. Also, she outlasted my prediction by 5 years. PART 1 HERE.
To find a man truly worthy of this title we must dig deep into the early days of internet pornography. A time when potato quality was top notch and only took 2 hours to .
Breaking traditional workout regimes, NASA-sponsored ejaculations and Skynet inching ever closer to harvesting our organs through the channel of A.I. powered sex transformers. If the next 8 minutes doesn't shine a more positive light on your life, nothing will. I'm here to help.
The amazing thing? Multiple people thought these were good ideas and put a whole lot of effort into them. I.E. the guy who had to cut a dick hole in a giant Wheaties box or the man controlling the giant octopus dildo tentacles.
Another posse of preoccupied partially sentient protagonists wondering if they could but never questioning if they should. These things would have never happened if they just gave Jeff Goldblum the Oscar.
