I texted him about a book we both like. I was expecting a "ya great book... let's bone" response. It didn't work
New low. Found an ant nibbling on my last xanax. Flicked it away and popped it in my mouth anyways.
He made me cum so much, I almost let him spend the night. The operative word being "almost".
He told me he wouldn't do any drunk sluts but me. I guess that's sort of a compliment...?
the bathroom floor of the diner looks a lot different when you're not rolling around and puking on it.
I created a photogrid for every picture he has ever sent me of his penis. Now I can see every angle at one time. THIS IS GREAT.
I promised myself in the hospital that I would give up drinking for however long the cast stayed on. Thank god it was only soft tissue and not a fracture.
She must've been waiting down the street cause after I said I specialized in inner-thigh-face-massage it couldn't have been 2 minutes until she was on my couch.
He was pretty handsy. Told me I tasted like smoke. Good think he tasted that and not the stomach acid I just puked not ten minutes before.
He told me to take off work and bring a bathing suit. If this doesn't involve six flags hurricane harbor or sex in a hotel pool I'm going to be disappointed.
he has the ass of a greek god and he made me breakfast
Tomorrow is my favorite texting day of the year... It's where I send every guy I've had sex with this past year a text saying "happy not a Father's Day" and we laugh and I get so much dick it's wonderful.
I wouldn't marry anyone who wouldn't symbolically fuck a doughnut with a sausage though.
We could have mediocre awkward sex or mediocre stunted/awkward/uncomfortable banter. The possilities are relatively finite
I dont know. He's too private. After you fuck him find out his secrets.
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