shoecotton wrote:
Honestly expected things to be much lewder
Inserting a squash into my soft-shelled tuna taco got me gushing beige slime faster than a greased weasel shit. When he removed his cunt plunger from my vintage golf bag, he was pleasantly surprised to see a colon cobra staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to consume the Mr. Hanky off his blind butler. Hours of thrusting like this would leave any girl's spam castanets looking like a horse's collar, and I was no different! Some girls are happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a number of chillies in my ground zero grotto and an egg timer up my vintage golf bag. The pounding of my brown mile was so vigorous, he soon found his two amigos joining his devil's bagpipe deep in my black hole.
With his huge penis slamming deep into my clam-flavoured pothole, the sensation of his wensleydale wand smashing my cervix made me quiver like a tasered slab of chopped liver. Hours of plowing like this would leave any girl's fishy flaps looking like a motorway pileup, and I was no different! Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his disco stick stuffed deeper into my shit winker. I can't wait to suck the love mayonnaise from his muffbuster. My south mouth was trembling like a tasered slab of chopped liver.
The thrusting makes me squirt my spaff all over his greasy slimelight. Now, I've been shot over more times than Sarajevo, but the sight of his master of ceremonies made my minge monsoon trickle like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. He pinched off a giant stink pickle on my mammaries just so he could chow down on it up like a bulldog eating porridge. I awoke the next morning with my depravity cavity still trickling. I thought it was over but his all-beef thermometer had other ideas. The pounding of my rusty bullet hole was so vigorous, he soon found his sperm factories joining his long-dong silver deep in my Mavis Fritter.
