After having my penis pothole hammered, he then proceeded to plow my Mavis Fritter. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his long-dong silver plunged deeper into my poo pipe. Some girls are happy just to tune the tuna when they’re alone, but I can’t get off without having an egg timer in my stench trench and an egg timer up my balloon knot. Inserting a lightbulb into my stench trench got me surging shrimp sap faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. There was magician’s wax leaking from his skin flute and I was wetter than an otter’s pocket. We were ready for more.