i have one hour to talk myself into enjoying giving him a blow job when i get home
I'm walking down the halls of our hotel and listening for sex noises and knocking when I do.
it was like he was trying to blow his nose in my vagina
as he left, i held up my fist and said "pound it out" and he was like "are you serious, we just had sex..."
we marched down beaver avenue with lit tiki torches humming the olympics opening song.
He kept insisting that I was going to have an orgasm but it just felt like he was rubbing sand paper on my vagina
apparently "preggers as fuck" isn't an appropriate way to describe someone...
I think theres a high possibility i could be flammable.
Hindsight is 20/20. Or a bladder infection.
You beat him at the shot competition, and proceeded to rub it in while telling everyone to "ASK ME A MATH QUESTION!!!"
If me getting shot doesn't get me pussy I am officially gay
Why the fuck is he under my phone as Papi Chulo?
I think if wine wasn't a thing I'd give up on life.
Have you ever had chicken nuggets while high? Because it tastes like hearing the Beatles for the first time
I lost my favorite bra in his hotel room. Is it bad that that's the only reason I hope he texts me tomorrow?
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