once we finished he held up the condom and asked if i wanted to keep it as a souvenir.
oh and he was serious.
I'm not really sure how I got home, but judging by this headache, i'm assuming it involved bourbon.
Probably, but last night was a special kind of drunk. It was a "let's see how drunk I can get without killing myself" drunk.
i just used my scantron for my final to make paper shotglasses. i'd say i passed in flying colors.
He said last night that he'd never had such a great conversation and such a great handjob at the same time.
i think he saw me take a picture of his dick
I showed that dick picture that your date texted you to everyone because you passed out and left your phone unattended. Your fault. Plus his cock was big so his fault too.
If there's so much of a hint of a whisper from somebody I didn't tell personally, I will cut off your balls with a chainsaw, cauterize the wound with a flaming rusty spoon, feed your balls to your dog, and feed them to you when he shits them out, capiche?
Seriously. My vagina. Can we talk about it? It's gonna jump off this treadmill and devour my trainer.
I told him if he wanted to lose weight he had to learn self control. Less than ten minutes after that I ate a cookie off the floor...
Only you could successfully troll for dick at a Hillel bake sale.
First. I had the strength. Now. I am the death.
A relationship is waiting for him to fall asleep so you can cum (finally!) while watching porn
I just upped my southern womanhood. Taking whiskey and Kleenex pocket packs to the funeral.
My apartment stinks of burning failure
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