A Bacon Egg and Me sandwich

You're no degenerate, but you know what you NEED to try? **** between this woman's legs. Can you even really die? It would have been like this if you had a choice anyway. She most definitely could anyway, hell she could squat a prius if she tried. Come to think of it, there's a photo behind her on the wall squatting a Chevy Suburban. Yeah, this it.

"Can I have the number three?" "Oh, of course. Spicy or regular?" Now you're confused, "Isn't the number three the Skullcrusher?" Her surprisingly tender voice reprimands you, "Sorry sir, the number three is just the special. Yesterday was the Skullcrusher, unfortunately I haven't had time to update that. Thursdays' special is Ham, cheese, and a handy. It's a panini while I jerk you off." That sounds fucking heavenly to be honest, despite the fact that you can see the entire anatomy of her arm through her taut skin, her skin is smooth and clear with her hands looking incredibly soft. "Is there any chance I could get the Skullcrusher?" She reaches behind her head to release her bunned hair, "It would be my pleasure."

She comes in front of the counter. In front of you she seems even moreso delightfully immense. You're aware of the short kings that can suck a titty standing up, but you could eat her pussy on your toes. **** row has never had anyone so hard, she moves pillows from the sofa in the corner to the ground. At some point she took the time to peel off her jeans, and you can see it, beads of sweat line her vice-like legs with a delightful salty aroma mixing into her perfume. She beckons you with powerful finger to sit with her. You join her on the floor and lean back into paradise. The soft cushion of a pair of breasts is a comfort every man should know, you keep leaning back but her frame doesn't budge, and her cleavage grows infinte deeper, swallowing your head whole. She pulls you out by the shirt with a gasp. "It's alright, you're not the first, and if you'd prefer Boob Suffocation that special's on Sunday" She grants you one more trip down her yellow brick road, and it's realistic. The indentations of her washboard abs feel like warm cobble stones on the back of your head. She pushes your head down and asks the final question