work

"Ugh!" Rupaul let out a loud grunt as he clenched the edges of the porcelain seat. The pure stank flooded the room. "AAAAAAHHH SHAKEY CAKES!!!!"

Shakespeare rushed into the room at the sound of his distressed lover "Art thou at good health?" Shakespeare said concerned. Rupaul's cheeks gistened with sweat, "Honey doll, I need HEELLPPP!!" Shakespeare rushed over to his fiancé.

"Oh my amber sweet love, how shalleth I giveth thy aid to halt thous grief?"
"Just work it out of me..." Rupaul chuckled, "you're good at that..."
Shakespeare smirked at that.

"UGH HOLY FUCK!!" Rupaul was still in great discomfort. Shakespeare pushed his husband-to-be over so he could gain full access to his ripened crack. "Thou crevasse shall be thy greatest source of thy sweet scent,"

Shakespeare said as he dug into Rupaul's ass hole. He reached the mass of shit while simultaneously hitting just the right spot. "YASSS MAMMA WORK!!!!" Rupaul exclaimed as Shakespeare removed his shit from his now fractured hole.

"YASS GAWD YOU BETTER WORK IT MAMMA YASSSS" Shakespeare took his shit covered foot out of his fiancée's crack. "Thou have thy most amber shit," Rupaul blushed; he loved when Shakespeare spoke in soliloquies.

"Willeth thou allow me to seal thy lips with a sweet kiss???" Rupaul took a step closer to him. "Yes, Shakey cakes, but before that," Shakespeare looked frightened at this pause, before Rupaul spoke again.

"I have one thing to say..." Rupaul kicked off his heels.

"You better work."