When I met her she said, along the lines of the analogy used by Mormon matrons uring their daughters to premarital celibacy, that she had no butter. "I'm like a piece of toast with all the butter licked off," ironic smirk going strong, which proposed she really meant it.
As we keep discovering, however, there's butter and then there's butter. And then there's butt-er. The Flesh 2000 Series is perfect for exploring fresh, green pastures for those who think they've blazed every trail and crested every ridge. They're soft and malleable and reasonably thin, which makes them perfect for gently probing new frontiers. The 9-inch, lubed and wielded with care, followed a pair of fingers into my honey's heinie and coaxed rom her a bone-rattling Ohh which she swears was peerless and shocking, proving once again that one man's dry toast is another's well-buttered biscuit.