The unrelenting orgasms from his flesh gordon thrusting my clunge pool made me come so hard, I began sweating like a fat slag in a disco. Some girls are happy just to fish for pearls when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a lightbulb in my ♥♥♥♥ holster and a squash up my brown mile. When he removed his clunger from my black hole, he was pleasantly surprised to see a sewer trout staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down on the Mr. Hanky off his sperminator. With my fishy flaps now much like a gutted trout, he thought it was time to start stuffing my turd-herder. Is now the time to tell him I really need to pitch a colon cobra, I wondered? The plowing makes me spout my minge mucus all over his womb ferret.