Festive Fantasy Fable: The Brent Clause

‘Twas the night before XXX-Mas, when all through Brent Corrigan’s house, not a twinky hole was purring, not even to pounce; the twunky was hung by the whitey tightey with care, in hopes that all the bottoms would soon be there; the size queens were burrowed with cocks in their beds, while visions of Corrigan’s creamy jizz sloshed around their heads.

Image © and courtesy Dirty Bird Pictures