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Coasting into the coach house, we learn why Nannies are the best.
There was much thrashing, smacking, and gnashing going on in the deep pool of blackness behind the front seat of my 1966 Pontiac Bonneville.
Joy was all frizzy hair, glasses, boobs, and feminine curves everywhere else.
"I thought you," Gina exhaled hoarsely. "Came!" I grunted appreciatively.
Go read your journal and see if your really want to take the chance of another of your time spurting cummings and goings?"
My nose led me to paydirt.
Who is she NOW!
The presentation of splayed Tami took my breath away.
What's a girl to do when the fuck bunny comes to call.