Her boobs were tiny. I could have used her bra as a blind fold. Which in hindsight would have made things a lot better.
You proceeded to call me a hoe and then informed me that Bear Grylls is and always will be more important than I am to you.
im covered in puffy paint and glitter i cant find kevin and im wearing shoes that dont belong to me....come get me please
Can you fuck me on the kitchen counter at some point? I'll lysol it after
I left boob prints on the hood of his car. Something to remember me by.
Moral of the story: If you're gonna throw a glass of wine in a guy's face, don't do it in your own kitchen.
I find it worrying that she bit me in bed. Then proceeded to write her name in bite marks. All without ever losing the rhythm of our fucking.
Went to a wedding reception last night, came home with a Christmas tree and the rest of the keg
Next time someone asks you what your spirit animal is do you really want to answer the iowa state fair butter cow?
I should probably stop opening conversations with 'guess who's horny'.
She just sent me a message. It's a poem, about eternal love, that she wrote, about us. Just because I took her home two nights - doesn't mean it's eternal love.
I was not drunk. There was Star Wars, sex, and baby oil.
How are you and your magical vagina doing today?
Truth. Though I have held steadfast to the notion while the rest of you wavered. I had faith in his homosexuality.
I mean his penis was perfect in pictures but its even more perfect inside me
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