Hotel room at 3 am. She's 42. Stockings and heels. All because I opened with a joke about cougar hunting. We'll high-five later.
kicked my backpack and turned on my vibrator in the middle of class. success.
she bought me drinks at the bar, made me pizza at her place, gave me head, and then drove me home...i think i might propose
You were in my dream and you got the lyrics to lollipop tattooed on your chest. Don't get it, it wasnt that cool.
Hindsight: maybe I should have included a few transitional texts in between talking about your son and my need to have sex. Do over?
so the last visual we have of him for the next 87 weeks is him outside on the ground rolling around yelling I HATE BLOWJOBS
I incognito puked under the VIP table. Did Jersey proud.
Thats not what we're looking for. I want this kid to suck a lolly pop out of a stripper's snatch.
His search history includes homemade sex toys and a plunger. I'm scared about what goes on in their place.
Idk. I was speaking metaphorically. Go for it. As one of your bad decisions, I feel confident in saying you've done worse.
Well, it's a fine line between people-watching and boob-staring. It's a gray area. But we're in Paris. Let's leave it at that.
Yeah we've been texting but I don't know how to just randomly throw in sooo the real reason this is happening is because i hear you're a drug dealer
sarah's view on last night: a threesome to make things less awkward. oh, well done.
I want to strut with the confidence of a pigeon.
I WILL go to space. And if we find aliens I WILL fuck one. It’s the Marine Corps way
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