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He munched on my fishy flaps, even though I'd been walking the red carpet for the best part of a week. There was love mayonnaise foaming from his love muscle and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more. I awoke the next morning with my chlamydia canal still sliming. I thought it was over but his cervix cigar had other ideas. The hammering makes me splurge my beige slime all over his jebend. When he removed his sperminator from my mud flap, he was pleasantly surprised to see a hardened fudge nugget staring back as him. He knew I couldn't wait to devour the stink pickle off his brie baton.