We have sex, then he cooks. It's like a fantasy.
You know, be my cock's hype man.
That's because you're a slut. A slut fucking a fence.
Couldn't see or hear that well because she hit me on the back of the head with a bat. That is my excuse. Also the gin.
All I remember is you introducing yourself to the entire basketball team using the line "I'll show you a slam dunk."
Need your help. He's locked himself in the bathroom with his bong and his childhood collection of Goosebumps books.
Are you also wondering how we get home after the party bus?
Home?
He said he wanted to have butt sex with me and curl up with me after and just be near me. Then he passed out.
Now I know he's not trying to fuck me. He took me to lunch at White Castle.
I felt guilty, it was so good!
Guilty? Oh great, I give the Jewish mother-in-law of blowjobs.
How the fuck does a person bruise an armpit? I swear to god, I get the lamest drunk injuries.
He sat down, pointed at my Converse and said "I have the same shoes." I thought "I'm going to have sex with you by the end of the night."
He sent me a blank text message. That's a booty call waiting to happen
I told him I wanted to get on him and ride him to Montana. It didnt end like i thought it would.
I feel really sorry for my toilet right now
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