i don't remember her name, but i don't need it unless we decide to hook up again. but even then, i can get away with not knowing it for a while. it's not like we have actual conversations.
I'm so hungover, I actually considered rolling down the stairs to avoid walking.
So then I sent a pic msg of the Magnum XL box to her friend
Am I texting you while being used as a stripper pole by two half-naked women? hint: I am.
Managed to get through family dinner without anyone knowing I was tripping balls. Christmas miracle. He exists.
She told me I made the cut, and to write my name and number on the white board by the door. I was the 7th number down.
I just wanted to warn you I have strep throat incase I gave it to that guy we both hooked up with on New Years.
I was mid hand job and stopped me because he wanted to "connect" which meant putting his thumb in between my eyebrows and a hand over my heart and closing our eyes...
Although now I have "number of cheese slices" as a unit of boob measurement in my head.
I'm standing up, for my all my brothers and sisters, and fighting against whiskey dick.
Oh dear God, they have a song about Mom...
You gave me the best orgasm of my life. I'm buying you a house
Do you ever have one of those days when your breasts are just fucking awesome?
He's hot, clean, can actually cook, and best of all isn't a narcissistic prick. I found a unicorn.
Ride that fucker.
There's something sensual about taking off a pair of socks.
Randomize