The first sip always goes straight to my vagina.
i'm using a wine bottle as a spitter. how classy is that.
I have a question, if it paid really well, like ridiculously well, would you be a restaraunts under the table resident blowjob girl?
He picked me up from the airport wearing nothing but a trench coat and a bow on his dick
we hotboxed my bathroom. with nine people and two dogs.
would you say our friendship is at the "help each other shave animal patterns in each other's pubes" phase?
Who doesnt want to be Yoda? I mean seriously, how sweet would that be? Live to 400, not give a shit about love and all that, know fucking mind tricks and smoke awesome swamp weed. I'm down.
He has a British accent. He could read me the phone book and I would come so hard he would need a wizened old man in a rowboat to save him.
All I know is that I have a black eye and an extra $200 in my wallet. Other than that, clueless.
we are eating waffles in the pillow fort. Still think you're too straight for a threesome?
I'll be right over.
Now with the essential back story, I can empathize. Sorry about your beer and butthole.
He made me tacos after the sex. Best date ever!
I'm actually glad the whole thing's over now. It's exhausting to fake a pregnancy.
Imagine not having to fake it.
Yeah, I should never have kids, probably.
Well the hawks lost... so, of course, the only logical course of action was a bonfire in the middle of the street.
Because, after all, nothing quite says life in 2020 than doing laundry at 9:40 on a Friday morning to make sure you have masks and underwear.
Randomize
