I found the seven page love letter I had written you. I'm sorry i was so obsessed.
Oh. My. God. Best non-relationship, he-might-be-cheating-on-his-boyfriend-but-I-can't-tell-because-of-the-language-barrier sex EVER!
We decided that the paper cups disintegrating was god's way of telling us we had had enough
It's just like riding a horse. A very tall, gay horse.
Rolling one last joint on my Psych textbook before trading it in. I might actually cry.
Dude..this is the third year in a row me and him have fucked at a super bowl party..does that count as a tradition?
I had a dream about masturbating with toys I can't afford.
My sex life and finances are equally in shambles.
Don't feel bad sweetie, you're not the only classy one in town. I'm still driving around with that tupperware of tequila in my cup holder from last week's Margarita Monday.
Every time he asks me if I'm horny I'm just like come on...stupid question
I told him I was gunna have sex with him in both of our cars at the same time.
I arrived home at 7am wearing nothing but my underwear and a fedora. I ate half a dozen deviled eggs. Put Katy Perry on repeat. And cried myself to sleep. We cannot go out on Thursday anymore
Bouncer came into the bathrooms to tell us the old one-person-per-stall rule, realised it was two girls banging, and left us to it. Lesbiperks.
Can you come unlock the door? I just peed myself on the porch.
Cheyanne in woods. Ducks attacked. My toe is bleeding. We are gpsing our way home on foot. No worries
I have filthy fantasies involving his tongue. My vagina almost exploded while he was licking that ice cream cone.
Randomize
