The thrusting of my marmite motorway was so vigorous, he soon found his jingle-jangle jewellery joining his cheese-crusted cock deep in my fart valve. With his stilton sword hammering deep into my gammon alley, the sensation of his womb raider smashing my cervix made me quiver like jelly. Within no time, I could feel the shitty steamin' semen seeping from my mud flap and all over my sugared almond. There was cock snot leaching from his clunger and I was wetter than an English summer. We were ready for more. With my open-faced ham sandwich now much like a motorway pileup, he thought it was time to start shoving my old dirt road. Is now the time to tell him I really need to roll a footlong fudge bullet, I wondered?
