A poem with high socks
A poem with high socks
Husband couldn't fill that hole
Happy fucking birthday, bitch!
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
Your holes want it
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
You had my food, now you have me
Words are lost too
Ola, housekeeping!
So you never had real pussy before?
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
I want performance, not excuses
Special treatment for special privileges