Just fucked a hooker at a motel in New Jersey. Two states down, 48 to go.
All four of us managed to throw up in the same bathroom at different times during the night. I think we'll get along great living together.
I'm thinking we can stop tracking my sex life by the hotels I've hooked up in and instead use bar bathrooms I've gotten head in.
I don't care. I'll text you about my butthole whenever I please. That's what you signed up for in this relationship.
Hey man. We haven't met but my name is Ben. I threw up a bunch at your house last night. I heard you smoke though so I'll smoke you out anytime.
I woke up to find my purse full of puke, and all I could think was not again.
And then I told him since the day he walked away to get over what I went through he lost the boyfriend right to ask why my bed is broken.
I take full pride in being the one that broke ur bed. Want to go for the sofa?
I may, or may not have licked his face in an Applebee's.
I think I just legit sprained my wrist from holding myself up while giving a blow J. God dammit come already
WE HAD GREAT SEX AND I HATE MYSELF FOR IT
You can't break up with me. I brought you to see Beyoncé.
who knew magic tricks and sex would actually go together?
Pennsylvania now holds the distinct honor of being the third state I've crapped my pants in.
I explained to him that me turning straight is a once a year thing. And this boy just happens to be the chosen one.
You're lucky I'm holding your vagina in my best interests
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