What's next?
Clovis
Clovis Moore was 80 years old. He was bald, he had dentures, and a white beard stained from too much tobacco use over the years. He supervised Woody as Woody pierced Carrie. Her tits. Her clit hood. Her tongue. And her nose.
"That's right, my heifer needs a good nose piercing," Clovis said. "Get those rings in her and lay her back, boy." Woody hurried to comply. Clovis looked down at you menacingly, as he unbuttoned his jeans.
"The breeding stock is pretty poor around here, heifer," he said. "So we've been looking for some new sources. See, I got this foot long dick." He pulled his cock out of his pants. He had a point there. It was the largest cock Carrie had ever seen.
"But my boy only got a 10 incher. And Woody here's barely got 8. And Floyd has barely got 6. It ain't right."
"So you're going to test out our theory. I've got a bet our son is going to be jusssst fine, heifer," he said with a cruel smile. "So let's get started."
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