Long labias. Talking about. Too drunk to explain. Tomorrow.
I feel eeeverything like there's a rhythm and everything can be felt w/o ever touching it. And it's beautiful. Sunshine or raindrops it's like orgasming. Everything has a taste.
I was still in a towel. We hadn't even started drinking yet and the champagne bottle dropped and exploded literally up into my vagina.
I demanded respect from my fuck buddy. Drunk me is not fun.
Please delete that video of me blowing you. I will repay you with 100 blowjobs even better than the one I gave you during that video. Please. I am gonna be a grandma one day.
YOUR BALLS CAME OUT. DONT CALL ME A SHITSHOW.
I knew us throwing ourselves at him back in the day would pay off. I'm gonna b a divorcees rebound. Score!
I feel like parents watching our children. You want to step in and help them but you just have to let them make their mistakes
REWARD BLOWJOB!! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE I'LL BE THERE IN FIVE MINUTES.
I told her to to let go of her rationtal thoughts and just enjoy the fact that i was going down on her till she passed out from sheer orgasmic pleasure.
Not a problem, sailor. I speak both autocorrect and typo.
We could have mediocre awkward sex or mediocre stunted/awkward/uncomfortable banter. The possilities are relatively finite
We need to step in, this can't continue. The guy she went home with last night looked exactly like Count Olaf, right down to the unibrow.
Which version tho, Jim Carrey or Neil Patrick Harris?
THAT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER, YOU DON'T FUCK COUNT OLAF!!!
No my problem is I'm working and its a beautiful Saturday. I should be recovering from a hangover and out golfing. Fuck responsibility. I miss college.
Totes just ripped ass and the bartender's eyes got wet
Randomize
