The hammering makes me splurge my sex wee all over his Ocean's 11 Inches. With his long-dong silver pounding deep into my slime hole, the sensation of his brie baton smashing my cervix made me quake like Vanessa Feltz's diesel-powered vibrator. By now, my kipper dinghy was flowing like a hungry pig at a trough. Inserting an egg timer into my fuck gutter got me spraying minge monsoon faster than snot off a whip. Hours of hammering like this would leave any girl's lunchmeat looking like Terry Waite's allotment, and I was no different!