Naturally, I’d prefer to see my belusted Britty hottie Rosie Huntington-Whiteley in something a bit more comfortable, say perhaps, nothing, but the girl need to get paid which means pimping something or other in this Violet Grey shoot. I think they sell beauty products or similar such salves that I obviously have no need for. Because I’m a guy. And already super beautiful.
And so are you, Rosie. Which is why we should be together. You and I under that leather jacket of yours exploring the true meaning of the words ‘trust’ and ‘deviancy’ not in that particular order. Oh, my, I bet your sweat smells like lilac. Mine, more like onions and garlic, but they’ll cancel each other out as we roll around for forty-eight hours with our bodies entwined like extremely active mating turtles. Dare to dream, and keep your head down when Statham throws with his left. Enjoy.