Cancel Culture by Kim Cancerous - HTML preview

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10

Cancel Culture | Kim Cancer

“This place is pussy paradise!” Sam muttered to himself, sipping a cold mug of beer at the Hooters on Sukhumvit Road, gazing at the waitress’s wiggly ass in her orange shorts and rubbernecking at the lovelies passing by on the street.

Sam was smitten with the Thai talent. He was in awe of how thin, curvy, and pretty the Thai girls were. They were so gentle, girly and feminine too. Nothing like the masculine porkers, disgusting tubs of lard so many American women were.

The cows! Sam hadn’t seen this many hot babes since college!

Popping dick pills, he hit every red-light district and nihilistically fucked every hooker he could, be they massage girls, bar girls, street walkers, he fucked them all. He even banged his tall skinny college-aged cleaning lady; paid extra to fuck her up her tight little ass.

He got soapy massages. He went to blowjob bars and had his knob greased while he slammed shots of tequila.

Sam was doing it! Living the dream! Running wild like a maniac! An escaped zoo animal! A horny white baboon mounting everything in sight!