Welcome back, Camille! Last time you were here, you had a cake with you.
“[Laughs.] Oh, dude. Yeah, I did. I was telling you bucks that I wanted you to beat my cakes up. I remember. It was the January ’11 issue. Now I am back to say, ‘Eat my cake!'”
And by your cake you mean eat…
“I mean that a charmer should pull down my panties and pull my a-hole open and bury his tongue in my wazoo. That’s what I mean by eat my cake. Salad tossing. I like boyz who are into that. The kind of studs that urge me to park my chunky a-hole on their faces and ride them until I cum. Guys who wanna be smothered by my gazoo, those are the dudes who indeed eat cookie well.”
Is that why you are all oiled up? To sit on a face?
“Well, I am oiled up so that I can acquire my haunches and ass massaged by a pair of beefy hands. I absolutely love hands all over my body. When a rubdown can lead to sex, it’s my favorite. That’s the finest of one as well as the other worlds.”
