[Fetch The Bolt Cutters]

By now, my whispering eye was haemorrhaging like a slavering dog. With his blood-engorged mayonnaise cannon thrusting deep into my clunge pool, the sensation of his chubstep smashing my cervix made me quake like jelly. I awoke the next morning with my carp cavity still salivating. I thought it was over but his battering ram had other ideas. The mixture of stink pickle and cock custard in my vintage golf bag created the delicious sphincter sauce that he was so fond of. The feeling of his steamin' semen frothing down my throat got my sex wee flowing quicker than snot off a whip.

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