"work" earlier, fucking miserable and When "she" finally sat down it sounded like a combination of a wet queef and someone stomping on a mound of slugs. Sort of like the sound it makes when you fist a wet loaf of bread. Yes, I've fisted a wet loaf of bread.
After for fucking ever she finally peeled out in the direction of Golden Coral. I took a can of Lysol over to the couch to kill any clit roaches she'd left behind, unfortunately the only thing remaining was a sweat streak from her ass in the leather.



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