¤dãŃn¥ §êãgüll¤;3202059 said:i can spread them apart as far as possible and sometimes even manually grip my bumcheeks far open.
As long as you get the chocolate out, who cares where your trousers are? I passed a 'man of the street' in Brighton earlier today leaning against a wall, wearing grey jogging bottoms, the arse of which were covered in dry brown stuff, which could have been mud, but looked more like dried botty choccy.