I meant to tell you earlier: bad life decision saturday has been moved wednesday this week
As i lay in bed, clutching my face, i'm starting to believe your dick in my eye story.
Take my keys. Load me into the vehicle. Drive. Get food. Come back. These are my demands.
Give me one reason I shouldn't put the phrase "sex emotions" into my essay.
No.
So I did end up texting him last night... I asked him how he felt about haircuts... not sure where I was going with that one?
So that wine I told you about is vile...
That the stuff you brewed in your dorm closet? Are you actually going to drink it?
Yup. It's drinkable. Might go blind, but I've got to use my chemistry minor for something.
I think it's safe to say I'm rolling my hypothetical balls off
It's meant to be, Cynthia. You, him, and your developed breasts are meant for each other.
I have the overwhelming need to take care of him. Both with my vagina and like emotionally.
We knew it was an interesting night when we found my thong wrapped around a chocolate chip muffin in the fridge.
I just found those cheese sticks in my purse. Along with a handful of confetti.
I'm pretty sure i doubled the number of dicks I've ever touched, last night.
But if you do poop yourself let me know. I want that as a tagline. "So funny she'll make you shit yourself."
But like it was sooo bad! At one point he tried to flip me over and he fell off the bed
He showed me his sex playlist and it looked good, so I slept with him.
Randomize
