Her name is Oksana Andersson and she’s some import wife of some Soccer player I know nothing about because I don’t watch sports and if I did, soccer wouldn’t be one of them, because seeing a bunch of dudes running around in the grass, all light on their feet, trying to get the ball in the net, without touching each other is just a little too reminiscent of the Gay porn I starred in. I was stuck for cash and instead of a field, it was a back alley and instead of a group of dudes trying to get the ball in the net, it was a group of dudes trying to get the balls deep in the anus, so I guess it really isn’t anything like that experience, maybe it’s just that since that horrid night, groups of men just make me feel uncomfortable, or maybe it’s because the only soccer coach I ever knew in life used to rape the little boys, giving a whole new dimension to the sport.

Either way, Oksana Andersson is obviously a mail order bride dude picked out of a catalog and modified to his liking by throwing on some tit like she’s some Japanese car in desperate need of some sub-woofers, and she is probably very grateful he helped her get out of war torn Russia that she won’t stray and if she acts up a bit, he’ll just show her pictures of people lined up for their rationed bread to keep her in check.

Here she is in a bikini….

Here she is topless…..