"There was penis pudding weeping from his disco stick and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more. Leaving my panties sunny side up on the floor was the least of my worries as his huge penis plunged deeper into my vintage golf bag. If I don't strum the banjo to get my vertical moisture trickling from my clearing in the woods, his bald avenger is going to leave my open-faced ham sandwich resembling the Japanese flag. Some girls are happy just to tune the tuna when they're alone, but I can't get off without having a squash in my fuck gutter and a 10 inch purple battery-operated monster up my vintage golf bag. The mixture of stink pickle and cock snot in my fart valve created the delicious rectoplasm that he was so fond of."
Penis pudding? Delicious rectoplasm? I need to take a bath now.
