I looked him in the face and asked if we could stop. he asked why. I said "I can't feel it.". ...I feel bad; I should have faked.
absolutely not. he will always be that kid that threw up a ham and cheese sandwich in fourth grade to me.
this boner is exhausting
bitch please you did NOT just unlike my status..
my fraternity brothers just had an intervention for me. i either have a problem or am just on some next-level shit, im gonna go with door number 2
this kid woke up on our hotel floor and doesnt know how he got here
on my way back.. me and that kid will be great friends
Got a stripper to howl at my wolf shirt.
Every time you blow me I should make a paper crane and we'll make them into a chain and hang them from the ceiling. And then whenever we have people over and they ask what the cranes are for I'll say "reminders" and wink at you.
That would warm my breasts.
In this context breast is a metaphor for soul.
Don't get me wrong, I love talking about lube and such, but why are we?
my brain is opting to stay half drunk rather than relearn how to think. the rest of me is in no position to argue.
I keep jumping up and down in front of the mirror naked. The only motivation I would be to stop and put clothes on is if you come over. Hurry.
I think id rather titty fuck an A cup than deal with what happened tonight again. shits depressing
She actually purred while I was balls deep in her! I have never been so proud to buy plan b at 6:30 in the morning.
The hardest part about being a child of divorce is when you're at your dad's house but your condoms are at your mom's house.
Randomize
