Michelle Avanti
Michelle Avanti popped out in Visalia on April 19, 1980. Turn eighteen, she ditched that one-horse town for L.A. and spun bottles behind a bar for five long years before anything dirty ever got filmed. First scene dropped in 2006; since then she’s racked up fifty-plus flicks, worked twelve different sites, and splashed across a couple of skin mags. How she stumbled in? Pure luck. She’s riding the San Diego line when some stunt-cock strikes up conversation, they fuck right there on the train, and boom—she decides the camera loves her more than mixology ever did. The girl lives for dick and good times, not hearts and roses. Cash first, emotions later, that’s her gospel. Her number-one fantasy? Getting railed by a squad of little people. She’ll take it in the ass any day, hates foreskin, and swears by extra cheese on her pizza.
Michelle Avanti
Michelle Avanti popped out in Visalia on April 19, 1980. Turn eighteen, she ditched that one-horse town for L.A. and spun bottles behind a bar for five long years before anything dirty ever got filmed. First scene dropped in 2006; since then she’s racked up fifty-plus flicks, worked twelve different sites, and splashed across a couple of skin mags. How she stumbled in? Pure luck. She’s riding the San Diego line when some stunt-cock strikes up conversation, they fuck right there on the train, and boom—she decides the camera loves her more than mixology ever did. The girl lives for dick and good times, not hearts and roses. Cash first, emotions later, that’s her gospel. Her number-one fantasy? Getting railed by a squad of little people. She’ll take it in the ass any day, hates foreskin, and swears by extra cheese on her pizza.
