The seemingly never-ending streams of penis pudding emanating from his greasy kebab skewer soon had me coated like a plasterer's radio. There was mountain dew baha blast weeping from his brie baton and I was wetter than a bathmaid's elbow. We were ready for more. By now, my stench trench was oozing like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. My hot pocket was trembling like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. Inserting a squash into my herring hole got me flowing ♥♥♥♥♥ batter faster than a greased weasel ♥♥♥♥. With his balony pony slamming deep into my smush mitten, the sensation of his giggle stick smashing my cervix made me quake like Micheal J. Fox licking a car battery.<br /><br />help im stuck in a mountain dew factory. i can feel the robot sausage voices overtaking me