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“Steely” Dan Rather crammed his blunt-object face between my legs and went to work on my cunt.
I have a really wet one, so there was plenty down there for him to do.
“Read the news into my twat,” I mewled, aching. “Say “And that’s the way it is” when I'm finished!”
I watched his blunt-object face rise over my mons horizon.
“Actually,” he said, a mucousy trail of poontang running down his chin crack, “That’s Walter Cronkite’s line. I say “Courage” at the end of my newscasts.”
I wrapped my legs around his blunt-object face and ground my asshole into his eye.
“What’s the frequency, Kenneth,” I screamed, climaxing.
Date Written: April 07, 2003
Average Vote: 4.28571