Button's Mom Is A Literal Goddess free porn video

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Alarm. 8:30 AM.

Whipping the comforter aside, Button Mash threw himself from his bed, hooves clopping onto the carpet-less hardwood floor of his dorm bedroom as he simultaneously reached his hand toward the blaring alarm clock, chocolate brown fingers silencing the cacophony. A determined grin spread across his muzzle as he adopted the coolest action pose he could think of with his limited early-morning brain capacity - spreading his hooves wide, bending his knees at ninety-degree angles, placing his left hand on his left knee, and pressing the knuckles of his right hand onto the floor.

"First weekend in college starts now!"

Like a jet - or so he felt - he took off to the bathroom to get a shower in, throwing on a pair of navy-blue boxer-briefs and a grey t-shirt depicting the silhouettes of several console controllers on its front. Then rushed to the dorm room's kitchen to throw together and wolf down a quick cereal breakfast. Then jetted back to the bathroom to brush his teeth. By 8:50 he was back to his bed, quickly throwing the comforter up and letting it drape evenly over the mattress. Which he then leapt onto and took a seat in the middle of. He looked across his setup of gaming machines all linked to the same TV monitor (save for the handheld ones), which he'd spent most of his last weekend before the start of college moving from his home and setting up here in the dorm.

"No plans, no ponies, no reasons to go outside, no "praise be to goddess Cream Heart", just games, games, and more--"

Out of the corner of his eye, Button noticed the window of his dorm bedroom was letting light in. He hopped off the bed and moved to close the curtains, but not before getting an eyeful of the statue depicting the completely nude form of his own mom that stood tall and proud in his college's courtyard. Every college's, really. He knew. He'd done the shopping around. Every college somehow owed their founding to her, and it was apparent a "sin" to depict their goddess wearing clothing.

When did he even open those curtains? Without sparing the question another thought, he whipped the curtains closed, his room staying lit by the electric ceiling light. Hopping back into bed, he once more let his eyes wander from console to console, handheld to handheld, monitor to PC. There was only one thing he needed to devote brain power today, and it wasn't curtains. No, the more pressing question was...

"What to play...? What to play...?"

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