so Mike and I made a deal. we'd do anal if he would help me pick out carpet tomorrow.
What...you let him do that?
It wasnt that bad. the two minutes it took is nothing compared to the 10 hr day I have planned for him tomorrow
chicago's viagra triangle is not unlike the bermuda triangle in thatt things just get lost...... planes, ships, dignity, virginity, etc.
It feels like he gave my taint an indian burn.
i want to have as much fun as i did last weekend. but plus the condom and minus the fear.
They evidently had to pull his penis out of me while we were passed out on the floor.
To be honest i'm almost glad he got arrested. His girlfriend and i kept making out so i'm pretty sure the alternative was a threesome. Now we're just the trashy girls who visit him in jail.
I've woke up in his bed 4 out of the past 6 mornings. I feel like this might be the time to learn more about him then his first name and what kind of beer he drinks.
I never thought that it would get to the point where I would have to specify that by "hang out" I meant "fuck like rabbits." Growing up shouldn't be this way.
He has a lot of emotional energy invested in your vagina.
I look like I just got gang banged and I'm wearing a Taylor swift t shirt. It's not gonna be a pretty breakfast.
Okay who let me pass out in a recliner cuddling a pitbull and a cardboard cutout of Orlando Bloom
Woke up with champagne in my hair and honey mustard on my hands. Strangely, I'm okau with this
Moral of the story: fuckboys never change
And then you two got up and shouted in near perfect unison "I'M ALWAYS A SLUT FOR BASKIN ROBBINS" The bar just looked at us horrified.
I need to find a divorced guy with a boat and let my tits do the talking
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