In the eyes of male actors, a woman's asshole is a beautiful scenery, so the one who loves the most is considered male actors.
Rotten Fish Head Use his hot lips to pounce on Shabby's plump ass, coveting the asshole hiding in the center.
He spread the two butts that were automatically merged like springs and kissed the deep and boundless, vast butt (at this time, this butt occupied the entire camera frame of the photographer), the white butt of the woman who had been hiding with the sun, slightly rippled like waves, spreading the subtle circles of patterns around.
The tongue of the rotten fish head is like a hunting dog that smells the target, and its feet go straight to its prey without touching it, passing through the smooth and bright skin as bright as moonlight, and pounces on the brown-colored wrinkles that cannot be hidden by the thong.
Shabby's body looked forward as if it was installed on a pulley, and a warm fluid hit her peaceful wrinkles.
Rotten Fish Head On Shabby's asshole, cleaning the battlefield, three circles on the left and three circles on the right, just like a sacred bird engaging in its mission with relish.
The advantages of Rotten Fish Head are here. He has never had the concept of dirty things. He can use his tongue to hit and click anywhere in a woman.
Of course, it does not mean that he has an artistic appreciation, nor does it mean that he is born to think that women are made of water, and therefore thinks that licking the asshole is a puppy drinking water.
No, Rotten Fish Head does not have so many rich artistic cells, only a greed and intoxication. When this kind of alcohol comes, he has already thrown aside any beauty and ugliness, fragrance and smell.
Shaby's legs were spread even more open, and the front of the thong could no longer cover her secret. Under the continuous licking of the rotten fish head, she had already spread out the last wrinkles.
Rotten Fish Head took advantage of the situation to pull off her thong. It was originally a vague rope. Under the influence of external force, it rolled along Shabby's legs and was peeled off like a mosquito larvae.
The woman's last wrinkles were revealed.
The photographer passionately lets the camera follow in, just like a man's gaze at this moment.Photographer Wu Dazhi fully understands the exploratory spirit of male audiences and faithfully records the final mystery of women.
What is the last wrinkle of a woman?
It was a woman's little cotton jacket, which was stacked by her every day, neatly hidden at the bottom of the most precious, safest and most hypnotic box.
That is a woman's jewelry box.Closed layer by layer, locks were placed one after another, protecting the tranquility and peace inside.
It was a woman's bud, which gathered up the stacked petals to protect the most core of the delicate stamen.
There is no sunshine, but it is clean and warm.
There are no clean fish there, but they are kept clean and clean.
There is a self-contained cycle, an independent ecosystem.
It will open up because of the enlightenment and franchise of love.
It will smile because of the grace of the master's soul.
It will be excited because the sweet desire has poured into the master's heart.
A woman is an animal that can be felt with care (of course men are even more of an animal).
Because of the heart and love, a woman will open her last wrinkles, bloom her most mysterious beauty, and give her the regretless him.
She will tolerate everything about him under the comfort of her beloved.
She would let his sight penetrate the eternal wasteland, plow the frozen soil that had been covered with thousands of years on the newly reclaimed land, and let the laughter and joy of spring reverberate in the loose gardens.
She would hand over her little cotton jacket, open her treasure chest, show off her buds, give her heart acquiescent and agree to the one he put in.
However, the actress is not.
Neither is Shabi.Because Shabi is an actress.
Shabi had handed over her body, handed over her little cotton jacket, her treasure chest, and her buds. Because of money, she made an equivalent exchange.
She left her heart to herself, and gave her body to the male actor and the camera.
So everything about her no longer belongs to her, but to the camera and to the A-film.
Rotten Fish Head Use his hot lips to pounce on Shabby's plump ass, coveting the asshole hiding in the center.
He spread the two butts that were automatically merged like springs and kissed the deep and boundless, vast butt (at this time, this butt occupied the entire camera frame of the photographer), the white butt of the woman who had been hiding with the sun, slightly rippled like waves, spreading the subtle circles of patterns around.
The tongue of the rotten fish head is like a hunting dog that smells the target, and its feet go straight to its prey without touching it, passing through the smooth and bright skin as bright as moonlight, and pounces on the brown-colored wrinkles that cannot be hidden by the thong.
Shabby's body looked forward as if it was installed on a pulley, and a warm fluid hit her peaceful wrinkles.
Rotten Fish Head On Shabby's asshole, cleaning the battlefield, three circles on the left and three circles on the right, just like a sacred bird engaging in its mission with relish.
The advantages of Rotten Fish Head are here. He has never had the concept of dirty things. He can use his tongue to hit and click anywhere in a woman.
Of course, it does not mean that he has an artistic appreciation, nor does it mean that he is born to think that women are made of water, and therefore thinks that licking the asshole is a puppy drinking water.
No, Rotten Fish Head does not have so many rich artistic cells, only a greed and intoxication. When this kind of alcohol comes, he has already thrown aside any beauty and ugliness, fragrance and smell.
Shaby's legs were spread even more open, and the front of the thong could no longer cover her secret. Under the continuous licking of the rotten fish head, she had already spread out the last wrinkles.
Rotten Fish Head took advantage of the situation to pull off her thong. It was originally a vague rope. Under the influence of external force, it rolled along Shabby's legs and was peeled off like a mosquito larvae.
The woman's last wrinkles were revealed.
The photographer passionately lets the camera follow in, just like a man's gaze at this moment.Photographer Wu Dazhi fully understands the exploratory spirit of male audiences and faithfully records the final mystery of women.
What is the last wrinkle of a woman?
It was a woman's little cotton jacket, which was stacked by her every day, neatly hidden at the bottom of the most precious, safest and most hypnotic box.
That is a woman's jewelry box.Closed layer by layer, locks were placed one after another, protecting the tranquility and peace inside.
It was a woman's bud, which gathered up the stacked petals to protect the most core of the delicate stamen.
There is no sunshine, but it is clean and warm.
There are no clean fish there, but they are kept clean and clean.
There is a self-contained cycle, an independent ecosystem.
It will open up because of the enlightenment and franchise of love.
It will smile because of the grace of the master's soul.
It will be excited because the sweet desire has poured into the master's heart.
A woman is an animal that can be felt with care (of course men are even more of an animal).
Because of the heart and love, a woman will open her last wrinkles, bloom her most mysterious beauty, and give her the regretless him.
She will tolerate everything about him under the comfort of her beloved.
She would let his sight penetrate the eternal wasteland, plow the frozen soil that had been covered with thousands of years on the newly reclaimed land, and let the laughter and joy of spring reverberate in the loose gardens.
She would hand over her little cotton jacket, open her treasure chest, show off her buds, give her heart acquiescent and agree to the one he put in.
However, the actress is not.
Neither is Shabi.Because Shabi is an actress.
Shabi had handed over her body, handed over her little cotton jacket, her treasure chest, and her buds. Because of money, she made an equivalent exchange.
She left her heart to herself, and gave her body to the male actor and the camera.
So everything about her no longer belongs to her, but to the camera and to the A-film.
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