They are made for other kind of work
They are made for other kind of work
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
You had my food, now you have me
Let me guess, you want them
I want performance, not excuses
You can't and will not escape
Your holes want it
Husband couldn't fill that hole
Hit that fucking high pitch note
Let the pussy feel neglected
Will you still call me after?
So you never had real pussy before?