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Oh, motorcycle girl on the back of that motorcycle, you're sitting with a big strong guy on the back there.
Oh, motorcycle girl, I know, he's much bigger, and with him everything is tougher than with me.
But motorcycle girl, I want talk to you, and let you learn things you don't know yet.
Oh, motorcycle girl, I realize that you are being used by his primitive guy.
Motor girl, I don't want to change you, no, that's not true, I actually want that.
In my eyes you are different from the others, a lady, not a slut or a loser.
Give me your hand, come with me to a pearly white beach and bright blue sea , to twinkling stars and a setting sun, and in the evening you can quietly enjoy the moon together on the balcony. The wonderful dinners in a beautiful restaurant, where violins are already playing and candle lights are burning wonderfully. A group of naked dwarfs are singing in the street. Understood by a moron who hits his forehead with a hammer, in the middle of all this I look at you for a moment, and we both feel that this feeling will never go away.
Oh, motorcycle girl, I will never get you, there I have also resigned myself to that.
Oh, motor girl, I'll just keep quiet, I've actually already said way too much.
But there is a cloth under my mattress, from which I wipe all the cum my stomach.
When I jerk off with my naughty girl book, or smell stolen underpants.
Sometimes I dream of a very beautiful boy, with tight buttocks and a bulge in his pants.
Small one girls long horny wet tongues, oops, here I go again, my cloth, my cloth, my cloth!