Trouble is between my thighs, son
Trouble is between my thighs, son
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
You can't and will not escape
Hit that fucking high pitch note
You had my food, now you have me
Your holes want it
Let me guess, you want them
Will you still call me after?
I want performance, not excuses
So you never had real pussy before?
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
Special treatment for special privileges
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
Husband couldn't fill that hole
Let the pussy feel neglected