Hes a 32 yr old divorced sailor that calls me almost every night drunk begging me to call him big daddy. I think i might need to change my number.
Oh no. He has the "I'm 30 years old and I just shit myself in public" face.
He keeps trying to sell me the forks from his kitchen drawer
Theres an amvulance here. It might be for me
He did not want a thank you for helping me move in bj. I don't know how to thank him now.
Meghan got a job at the bar. We're now morally obligated to drink. Is this what dreams are made of?
I should also mention that having been a sheltered child, I am conditioned to have serious kinks and find upper bodies of either sex attractive. And legs.
Me. blonde. Sex. Dance floor.
Lying on this bed is like lying on love and marshmallows and joy
My head feels like a nest made of hair and cum
He gave me a beer, petted my head, and called me kiddo.
Got another job?
If by job you mean clever way of getting free tattoos, then yes. I got another job.
I remember puking but I don't remember where. PSA: don't go barefoot around the house
Thanks for supporting me through Robs retirement. I'm still in shock, but your dick helped.
Let's just face it you're going to have an arrangement with your future wife your fuck me on Thursdays
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