milf poop: Chronicles of Courage, Love, and Adventure

Dark theater, single seat, milf poop on the screen and between her legs. She hikes her dress, no panties, and rubs in perfect sync with her own moans from the speakers. “Listen to milf poop come,” she whispers, circling faster. The surround sound fills with wet noises and breathless “milf poop, milf poop, milf poop” until she squirts all over the velvet seat in a private symphony of “milf poop”.