Dude sorry i couldnt seem to spell any words right in the texts i sent you last night
I felt like a fucking code breaker.
I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
foreplay: 7 minutes. sex: 3 minutes. cuddling: 10 minutes. getting dressed: 5 minutes. commute: 5 minutes.
just wokeup with my ethics textbook on my chest, animal crakers in my mouth and my dick in my hand. even aristotle doesn't have a theory for this one
he's downstairs watching tv with my family... I called the home line so my mom could bring me my make up bag cause my real face would prob make him delete my number
Also, we should really buy some bandaids. Right now I'm using toilet paper and scotch tape, but I don't really think that's sanitary.
There is a bottle of ciroc waiting graciously on my breakfast table. It's almost a sign for me to live up to my Russian blood.
He had bigger boobs than me last night and we both weren't wearing a bra so it was a fair judgement
Walking into the first day of college is like walking into a meat market. A meat market of sex.
Might I also add after my boss threw up in the garbage can and yelled puking rally, he dougied, then told me I wasn't about that life.
She said she didn't know what fireball was. We are no longer friends.
just once i'd like to actually BE there for your crazy drunk stories instead of just getting the play-by-play by people who can't remember half of it
Pretty sure we ruined a bachelorettes life last night
Next time I pee on a car, I'll text you.
He’s basically a sexual superhero. A mild mannered marketing intern by day, but a very horny 22 year old with pornstar stamina at nights!
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