idk you people

What kubo said.

Inserting an egg timer into my pink velvet sausage wallet got me splurging vertical moisture faster than snot off a whip. After having my chamber of squelch hammered, he then proceeded to slam my vintage golf bag. The slamming of my vintage golf bag was so vigorous, he soon found his man berries joining his cumtree deep in my poop chute. Now, I've been told the sperm bank will accept my spit, but the sight of his one-eyed monster made my minge monsoon froth like there was a midget inside me with a super soaker. If I don't stimulate the genitals through phalangetic motion to get my flange custard dripping from my salmon slit, his one-eyed monster is going to leave my vertical garden resembling a manatee in yoga pants.