
Tamed by the Triceratops by VT Bonds
She… she… she’s really having sex with a triceratops.

She… she… she’s really having sex with a triceratops.
This story feels like it’d been rushed out within a few days.
Holy crap, is that Matt Walsh?
Only for fans of the lead actor’s shirtless body, and even then, why not just go look at a picture.
The heroine doesn’t deserve any of the happiness that falls onto her lap.
Duller than a cloudy day.
A rushed, low-budget sequel that’s best left in the puzzle box.
Cam Gigandet, why are you torturing me with these terrible movies?
The only reasons to watch this thing are Jonathan Rhys Meyer’s pee-pee and ass.
It stumbles more than it dances.