by Amy Woods
With my vertical garden now much like a stamped bat, he thought it was time to start stuffing my poop chute. Is now the time to tell him I really need to launch a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his womb ferret plunged deeper into my cocoa channel. I awoke the next morning with my tampon tunnel still oozing. I thought it was over but his huge penis had other ideas. My mouth was so full of bugger king and cock snot, the magician's wax was flowing down my chin and onto my rack. It was bliss having his purple beaver buster shoved inside me again; stuffing my spunk dungeon with an egg timer just didn't get my cum dumpster surging like it used to. When he removed his mutton dagger from my soft tight anus, he was pleasantly surprised to see a Mr. Hanky staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to suck the toilet twinkie off his cunt plunger. Now, I've had more hands up me than The Muppets, but the sight of his wrist-thick wand made my sex wee drip like a George Foreman grill. Hours of raiding like this would leave any girl's beef curtains looking like a badly wrapped kebab, and I was no different! The seemingly never-ending streams of love piss emanating from his purple-headed trouser snake soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Some girls are happy just to finger blast when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a 15" spiked vibrator in my split peach and my fist up my chocolate starfish. After having my whispering eye hammered, he then proceeded to plow my marmite motorway. My municipal cockwash was trembling like a rat on acid. Within no time, I could feel the shitty penis pudding dribbling from my chocolate starfish and all over my piss flaps. He extruded a giant footlong fudge bullet on my rack just so he could lap it up like a bulldog eating porridge. I can't wait to gobble the ectoplasm from his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus. The pounding of my black hole was so vigorous, he soon found his jingle-jangle jewellery joining his purple beaver buster deep in my mud flap. Inserting a barbie doll into my south mouth got me ejecting beige slime faster than a greased weasel shit. By now, my furry cup was flowing like a hungry pig at a trough. With his womb raider thrusting deep into my cock holster, the sensation of his balony pony smashing my cervix made me quake like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. He munched on my furburger, even though I'd been riding the cotton pony for the best part of a week. The unrelenting orgasms from his meaty member slamming my cum dumpster made me come so hard, I began sweating like Joseph Fritzel on MTV Cribs. The mixture of butt nugget and ectoplasm in my puckered brown eye created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. The plowing makes me spout my pussy batter all over his battering ram. The feeling of his cock snot dribbling down my throat got my tuna tunnel tears flowing quicker than snot off a whip. There was love piss dripping from his brie baton and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready for more.
He pinched off a giant butt nugget on my chesticles just so he could chow down on it up like a hungry hungry hippo. The slamming of my other vagina was so vigorous, he soon found his family jewels joining his spunk-filled spam rocket deep in my cocoa channel. The seemingly never-ending streams of love piss emanating from his bald-headed yogurt slinger soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. My throat was so full of kebeb skewer and man fat, the ectoplasm was frothing down my chin and onto my tatas. Now, I've seen more action than Helmand Province, but the sight of his tenderloin truncheon made my spaff dribble like a slavering dog. When he removed his cream reaper from my brown mile, he was pleasantly surprised to see a footlong fudge bullet staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to consume the colon cobra off his slut slayer. I awoke the next morning with my south mouth still foaming. I thought it was over but his cunt plunger had other ideas. After having my stench trench plowed, he then proceeded to raid my puckered brown eye. With his stilton spear plowing deep into my mound of love pudding, the sensation of his Ocean's 11 Inches smashing my cervix made me quake like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. The unrelenting orgasms from his spam dagger slamming my shame portal made me come so hard, I began sweating like a whore in a confessional. Some girls are happy just to tune the tuna when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a barbie doll in my birth cannon and a lightbulb up my turd-herder. He munched on my purple cabbage, even though I'd had my redwings for the best part of a week. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his cream reaper plunged deeper into my mud flap. The mixture of colon cobra and creamy load in my black hole created the delicious porthole pudding that he was so fond of. There was baby gravy dribbling from his stilton spear and I was wetter than a spastic's chin. We were ready for more. By now, my soft-shelled tuna taco was flowing like a slavering dog. Inserting a 15" spiked vibrator into my one slice toaster got me pouring vertical moisture faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. With my open-faced ham sandwich now much like a bulldog licking piss from a thistle, he thought it was time to start probing my chocolate starfish. Is now the time to tell him I really need to roll a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered? My tuna canal was trembling like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. Within no time, I could feel the shitty baby gravy draining from my poop chute and all over my meaty hangers. Hours of pounding like this would leave any girl's open-faced ham sandwich looking like a bucket of smashed crabs, and I was no different! It was bliss having his one-eyed monster plunged inside me again; stuffing my municipal cockwash with a number of chillies just didn't get my cod cave flowing like it used to. The raiding makes me spit my pussy batter all over his bald-headed yogurt slinger. I can't wait to devour the man fat from his timed slimer. If I don't study english cliterature to get my minge mucus leaching from my split peach, his greasy kebab skewer is going to leave my panty hamster resembling a horse's collar.
Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his devil's bagpipe stuffed deeper into my cocoa channel. My throat was so full of bald avenger and love piss, the penis pudding was sliming down my chin and onto my mosquito bites. It was bliss having his bald avenger rammed inside me again; stuffing my clam-flavoured pothole with a number of chillies just didn't get my moose knuckle gushing like it used to. He dropped a giant footlong fudge bullet on my superdroopers just so he could chow down on it up like a hungry hungry hippo. When he removed his blood-engorged mayonnaise cannon from my ring piece, he was pleasantly surprised to see a colon cobra staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down on the sewer trout off his cervix cigar. The thrusting of my black hole was so vigorous, he soon found his man berries joining his kebeb skewer deep in my rusty bullet hole. He munched on my meaty hangers, even though I'd been on the rag for the best part of a week. The unrelenting orgasms from his chorizo howitzer thrusting my wunder down under made me come so hard, I began sweating like a gypsy near an unlocked shipping container. After having my mound of love pudding hammered, he then proceeded to fuck my vintage golf bag. I awoke the next morning with my sperm socket still oozing. I thought it was over but his jebend had other ideas. By now, my clam-flavoured pothole was haemorrhaging like a hungry pig at a trough. The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and love piss in my turd cutter created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. Inserting a 9-iron into my split peach got me spattering beige slime faster than a greased weasel shit. The feeling of his steamin' semen weeping down my throat got my vertical moisture flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. If I don't get a stinky pinky to get my minge mucus leaking from my meat purse, his blue-veined custard chucker is going to leave my meaty hangers resembling an over inflated dinghy. There was love piss sliming from his blue-veined custard chucker and I was wetter than an Italian cruise ship. We were ready for more. With my purple cabbage now much like a stamped bat, he thought it was time to start stuffing my cocoa channel. Is now the time to tell him I really need to arc a stink pickle, I wondered? I can't wait to chow down on the steamin' semen from his greasy slimelight. With his cunt plunger pounding deep into my meat purse, the sensation of his ramrod smashing my cervix made me quake like jelly. The seemin
gly never-ending streams of steamin' semen emanating from his Ocean's 11 Inches soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Hours of fucking like this would leave any girl's beef curtains looking like a dropped burrito, and I was no different! The plowing makes me spritz my fallopian fish stock all over his veiny quim prod. Some girls are happy just to buff the muff when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a barbie doll in my salmon slit and a lightbulb up my cocoa channel. My shamevelope was trembling like a rat on acid. Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but the sight of his bald-headed yogurt slinger made my vertical moisture trickle like a hungry pig at a trough.
He cut a giant sewer trout on my droopies just so he could suck it up like a pig at a trough. My mouth was so full of piss pipe and love piss, the Da Vinci load was dripping down my chin and onto my mammaries. I awoke the next morning with my kipper dinghy still sliming. I thought it was over but his cervix cigar had other ideas. The hammering makes me spray my flange custard all over his giggle stick. The seemingly never-ending streams of cock custard emanating from his bald-headed yogurt slinger soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. Now, I've seen more japseyes than an oriental optician, but the sight of his spam dagger made my flange custard slobber like a rabid dog. By now, my cum dumpster was dripping like a broken coffee maker. The unrelenting orgasms from his eight inches of throbbing pink jesus pounding my gaping clam cavern made me come so hard, I began sweating like Joseph Fritzel on MTV Cribs. With my velcro triangle now much like an over inflated dinghy, he thought it was time to start probing my tradesman's entrance. Is now the time to tell him I really need to launch a toilet twinkie, I wondered? He munched on my roast beef platter, even though I'd been on the rag for the best part of a week. I can't wait to devour the penis pudding from his slut slayer. After having my whispering eye fucked, he then proceeded to plow my brown eye. When he removed his flesh gordon from my brown mile, he was pleasantly surprised to see a butt nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to suck the stink pickle off his balony pony. There was gentleman's relish leaching from his wensleydale wand and I was wetter than a bathmaid's elbow. We were ready for more. The feeling of his magician's wax foaming down my throat got my spaff flowing quicker than a greased weasel shit. Inserting a 9-iron into my ladytown got me ejecting clunge gunge faster than a greased weasel shit. Within no time, I could feel the shitty cock snot trickling from my brown eye and all over my fishy flaps. With his timed slimer fucking deep into my municipal cockwash, the sensation of his kebeb skewer smashing my cervix made me quake like Micheal J. Fox licking a car battery. If I don't strum the banjo to get my pussy batter dribbling from my cock holster, his cunt plunger is going to leave my purple cabbage resembling a blind cobbler's thumb. The mixture of colon cobra and cock snot in my balloon knot created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. Hours of hammering like this would leave any girl's panty hamster looking like a bulldog in a windtunnel, and I was no different! The slamming of my rusty bullet hole was so vigorous, he soon found his clock weights joining his muffbuster deep in my vintage golf bag. Some girls are happy just to finger blast when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a lightbulb in my gashtray and a gerbil up my balloon knot. It was bliss having his spunk-filled spam rocket slid inside me again; stuffing my depravity cavity with a squash just didn't get my clearing in the woods spritzing like it used to. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his cream reaper plunged deeper into my soft tight anus.
If I don't fluff the muff to get my tuna tunnel tears leaching from my spunk dungeon, his love muscle is going to leave my clap flaps resembling a hippo's yawn. With my beef curtains now much like Pete Burns' lips, he thought it was time to start plunging my vintage golf bag. Is now the time to tell him I really need to curl a corn-eyed butt snake, I wondered? The mixture of hardened fudge nugget and cock custard in my chocolate starfish created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of. The unrelenting orgasms from his muffbuster plowing my frilling pink golf bag made me come so hard, I began sweating like a dyslexic on Countdown. My throat was so full of chubstep and man fat, the Da Vinci load was slobbering down my chin and onto my sweater puppies. The seemingly never-ending streams of penis pudding emanating from his turgid terror truncheon soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. It was bliss having his huge penis stuffed inside me again; stuffing my quim with a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster just didn't get my frilling pink golf bag pouring like it used to. The fucking makes me gush my clunge gunge all over his all-beef thermometer. He munched on my roast beef platter, even though I'd had Aunt Flo visiting for the best part of a week. Hours of raiding like this would leave any girl's panty hamster looking like a gutted trout, and I was no different! He pinched off a giant butt nugget on my chest puppies just so he could devour it up like a pig at a trough. My vibrator crater was trembling like Muhammad Ali on a tumble dryer. By now, my cod crater was haemorrhaging like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. Some girls are happy just to get a stinky pinky when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a lightbulb in my hot pocket and a lightbulb up my vintage golf bag. Now, I've seen more helmets than Hitler, but the sight of his greasy slimelight made my shrimp sap trickle like a hungry pig at a trough. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his giggle stick rammed deeper into my old dirt road. The fucking of my chocolate starfish was so vigorous, he soon found his hairy walnuts joining his cunt plunger deep in my turd-herder. With his love lollipop plowing deep into my stench trench, the sensation of his skin flute smashing my cervix made me quake like a shitting dog. After having my municipal cockwash fucked, he then proceeded to slam my brown mile. When he removed his master of ceremonies from my Mavis Fritter, he was pleasantly surprised to see a stink pickle staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to chow down on the corn-eyed butt snake off his gristle missile. Within no time, I could feel the shitty penis pudding draining from my Oxo orifice and all over my purple cabbage. I can't wait to suck the love piss from his bald-headed yogurt slinger. Inserting a lightbulb into my cod crater got me flooding clunge gunge faster than a greased weasel shit. The feeling of his baby gravy dribbling down my throat got my minge monsoon flowing quicker than greased shit off a shiny shovel. I awoke the next morning with my one slice toaster still trickling. I thought it was over but his jade rod had other ideas.
Now, I've had more hands up me than The Muppets, but the sight of his blood-engorged mayonnaise cannon made my spaff ooze like a George Foreman grill. With my flappy meal now much like a sand blasted tomato, he thought it was time to start shoving my other vagina. Is now the time to tell him I really need to curl a hardened fudge nugget, I wondered? When he removed his clunger from my ring piece, he was pleasantly surprised to see a sewer trout staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to suck the stink pickle off his womb ferret. The seemingly never-ending streams of penis pudding emanating from his kebeb skewer soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. He munched on my velcro triangle, even though I'd been riding the cotton pony for the best part of a week. Hours of pounding like this would leave any girl's open-faced ham sandwich looking like the Japanese flag, and I was no different! There was magician's wax flowing from his cumtree and I was wetter than an otter's pocket. We were ready for more. I awoke the next morning with my smush mitten still flowing. I thought it was over but his cunt plunger had other ideas. The hammering of my cocoa channel was so vigorous, he soon found his sperm factories joining his flesh gordon deep in my balloon knot. The unrelenting orgasms from his chubstep hammering my ground zero grotto made me come so hard, I began sweating like a dyslexic on Countdown. It was bliss having his skin flute stuffed inside me again; stuffing my ruby cave with a 9-iron just didn't get my cod crater flowing like it used to. Some girls are happy just to stimulate the genitals through phalangetic motion when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a number of chillies in my herring hole and a 15" spiked
vibrator up my Oxo orifice. With his disco stick hammering deep into my ladytown, the sensation of his ramrod smashing my cervix made me quake like a tasered slab of chopped liver. By now, my enchilada of love was dripping like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. Inserting my fist into my fuck trench got me splurging spaff faster than greased shit off a shiny shovel. He launched a giant hardened fudge nugget on my fiery biscuits just so he could chow down on it up like a bulldog eating porridge. Within no time, I could feel the shitty creamy load leaking from my puckered brown eye and all over my piss flaps. After having my quim raided, he then proceeded to hammer my Oxo orifice. If I don't study english cliterature to get my sex wee foaming from my enchilada of love, his skin flute is going to leave my lunchmeat resembling a sand blasted tomato. My wunder down under was trembling like a rat on acid. The slamming makes me pour my minge mucus all over his purple-headed trouser snake. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his battering ram slid deeper into my ring piece. The mixture of stink pickle and love mayonnaise in my turd-herder created the delicious rectal stew that he was so fond of. I can't wait to chow down on the penis pudding from his ample cock. My mouth was so full of timed slimer and magician's wax, the man fat was flowing down my chin and onto my sweater puppies.