i woke up with a shirt on. the kids in my daycare group had a lot of questions when i took off my shirt at the pool to reveal "property of brittany" written on my chest and an arrow pointing to my dick.
He made a note in his iPhone tonight so that he would remember that I rejected him.
All we had was a keg so we played edward nalgene-hands
i'm pretty sure the only people calling it "sexting" are ones who don't actually do it
I actually want to hang out with her with our clothes on. That's a big step up for me.
He managed to tell me he was blind in one eye and convince me to have sex with him in the same conversation. It's love.
It's okay. My lingerie drawer is skanky enough for the two of us. Even across borders.
He's a forty-something balding gay man with no boundaries or sense of social norms. Of course we should befriend him.
The goal for tonight is vagina. In and around. Doesn't matter who. How. Or why.
Nothing says "First Single Holidays" quite like getting baked with the guy that took your virginity four years ago.
I'm just that drunk tells people I love them or wants to set them on fire. Accept that.
My vagina has a mind if its own. Can you imagine if I didnt have you to run her ideas through.
We got signed out of jail by an Uber driver. I think that qualifies as a great first night of college
I walked in on him fucking her whilst she ate skittles. I saw things no one should see, but I did get your bra back. You owe me.
Nope. Im a prince of the americas. I treat my women like future queens. Also, im drunk watching the royal wedding
Randomize
