A poem with high socks
A poem with high socks
Sure boss, if you want me to fuck your wife...
I need a little more convincing
There is a hunger hanging over
Perfect setup for her specialty
Bury it deep in me
Jump on dick not to conclusions
Curly, you were made for dick
We will explore your horizons, 4k
Getting a little out of hand
Scissor always rocks
You seem so playful
We finish the day inside me
Let's devour each other
I give you full control, guys
Hungry holes in hungry whore
Let me taste your skin