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Well great, now all I can think about is brutally breeding her bunny cunny. How will I be able to get anything done today when my morning is plauged by thoughts of ravaging my beloved Kiki and fucking her the intensity of a hundred champyons hopped up on experimental high grade aphrodisiacs? How will I be able to pour my breakfast cereal when my thoughts are now 100% comprised of how, out of courtesy and thoughtfulness, we'd try to take it slow and start with a little foreplay before we both quickly realize that our bodies are too urgent for such a slow start and I fold her into a mating press. How will I be able to walk my dog now that an erection like that of the washington monument is piercing my trousers while I, unwillingly mind you, imagine how the whispers of mutual affection degrade into lewd and vulgar demands of satisfaction which melt into carnal, even primal grunts and utterances of pure unfiltered uninhibited lust.
Really, it is just great that I'll need to forgo my lovely routine now due to thoughts of blasting weeks of pent up seed into her fertile womb, how she would involuntarily clench down and squeeze it out of me, how we'd probably go for a few more rounds until we were both so exhausted that there would be no other alternative than to sleep and how in the morning we'd laugh as we replaced the bed sheet, now covered in sweat, semen, and other bodily fluids.
God fucking dammit.
