he asked me to help him wrap his girlfriends birthday presents. Dont worry we fucked right after.
oh my god i just remembered the cat blow jobs.
It honestly wasnt my fault this time. i was in shock. WHO THE FUCK OWNS A PEACOCK?!
It doesn't matter if I tell the story beginning to end or end to beginning, the story still starts with a random girl blowing me in the bathroom.
well the hot one passed out so thats that, but then the fat one made chicken nuggets....totally worth it
yeah, but the likliness of me finding my husband at a party where the facebook event is titled "NEW YEARS EVE SHIT SHOW" is highly unlikely
I'm a gymnast. they should know better than to let me get dunk near anything i can flip on
I wasn't that drunk, I know my limits. When peeing became difficult I stopped taking shots.
The alcohol just runs so smoothly thru my veins.
At what point in life does one make the conscious decision to incorporate capes into everyday life? Like, as a fashion statement?
I'm not sure how to answer that. Is it a general question or one you're wondering about for yourself? Because I don't think you're there yet.
You made me take a photo of you under the stairs at the bar. "Look I'm Harry Potter."
I make him buy me all the extremely expensive high end Mac cosmetics I desire. Wear it then let him cum on my face. I am fucking glamorous.
How is it medically possible for my urine to smell like espresso
I just had a sexting conversation using medieval jargon. I think he is a fine suitor.
My GF, FWB and Side piece are all booty calling me. I’m a victim of my sexual success
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