Make It Right, Gal Ritchie
Make It Right, Gal Ritchie
You had my food, now you have me
Your holes want it
I texted your mom to let you stay longer
I hear she's dying for two cocks at once
Special treatment for special privileges
I want performance, not excuses
Words are lost too
Happy fucking birthday, bitch!
Husband couldn't fill that hole
Apple picking and stepbro dicking
So you never had real pussy before?
Will you still call me after?