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