I’ll give you another example. I wasn’t making them strip, but they were stripping because they thought they agreed to this and didn’t want to be fired. I told you: loopholes. I think I need to speak to my manager,” she said, trying to weasel out of cashier duty. Look, it doesn’t matter if your meat is like three pornstar cocks taped together; when you get used to it, you always wish it could be a little bigger. Like she was hired as a joke. She had to slurp it fast because there was a line of people behind me with their cocks out, ready to pay. And my reward for this clever workaround were a truly magnificent pair of torpedo tips out in public, probably for the first time. That peach was out of this world and begging to get destroyed in those thin black leggings that allowed for some jiggle when she walked. I wish that your meal at this topless restaurant is free if the waitress doesn’t let you massage her breasts. Mira (that’s what her nametag said), don’t worry, I got your back (although your back won’t thank me): I wish Mira the hostess had tits the size of watermelons.
