The Peanut Gallery, when it saw and heard the explosive effects of Buford’s direct hit on his exposed target, had burst into cheers. Better than jeers, thought Tiffany. She realized that, by waiting until he could catch her off her guard, Buford had actually eased the entry of the rude Buttinsky into her back passage; for neither she nor her bottom hole was still tensed up when he had driven his vulcanized point home.
Tiffany had looked incredibly cute with both her front and her rear entrances forming a perfect circle, like the two sides of a holed coin. The opening in her backside, aided by her Godfather wielding his rubber magic wand, was a good deal larger than the one in the front though; since Buford’s conjuring had made the pucker disappear from her tight bunghole and magically reappear on her lips: “Oh!” Given the choice of Heads or Tails, the twins had chosen to record both on their cell phones, as they found both her face and her backside great fun to watch.