pom pom msm

She heard her dad rummage around the kitchen, cutlery clanked together, and the microwave hummed for a minute or so before he collapsed onto the couch with the bowl of leftover lasagne steaming in his hands. Like muscle memory, he quickly switched on the TV and started wolfing down the food like a starving man. Only after demolishing half the bowl of pasta, barely paying attention to the random game show playing softly in the background did he turn to his daughter and notice the look on her face.

“You’ll thank me,” she said as she stepped out of the shower, returning with garden variety paper scissors and a disposable razor. She snipped my pubes close with the scissors, not even taking a minute. Then she got a big handful of soapy suds and coated my cock and balls. In just a couple of minutes rinsed me with a handheld sprayer, revealing a totally bald, and, I must say, a more impressive looking penis.

His movements slowed, and his water magic flickered like a candle at the end of its wick. Regardless, he powered through, and after several minutes of relentless combat, he delivered a critical blow, punching Viktor in the chin and sending his brain rattling around in his skull. He staggered back, using what little mental capacity he retained to stay upright, while Falco hobbled over, his strength fading. He and everyone else simply assumed his condition was due to fatigue.