Maybe we were plotting this
Maybe we were plotting this
You can't and will not escape
Your holes want it
Let the pussy feel neglected
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
Let me guess, you want them
Hit that fucking high pitch note
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
Will you still call me after?
Husband couldn't fill that hole
I want performance, not excuses