Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
We walked past a group of guys in front of a bar last night and they claimed, I quote: Wow, we'd actually have to work for that.
ok now this is the second time he's reffered to recieving a blow job as 'getting his pee pee sucked'
For what it's worth, your chances of anal go up the more she loves you. There's always a silver lining.
some crying dude holding an empty fifth of burnetts just showed up at our door and asked 'do i live here?'
I keep having to have that awkward "I don't want to have sex with you" convo. I thought wearing sweatpants was suppose to prevent this situation..
Please, take the 2 shots of vodka that I left as an apologie.
This is going to be the time I got green body paint on Chris' ceiling all over again...
How can I politely yet provocatively ask you for a cock shot?
Are we in any of the areas with tornados?
Dude, i don't even have pants on yet, it's too early to think about tornadoes.
I have tan lines from my nipple rings.
I came so hard I burst a blood vessel in my eye. If i cant marry this girl, I'm gonna have to switch teams.
Well I walked the wrong way for a little bit and I don't remember if I fell asleep or not but I definitely laid down under the over pass for a while
I stole all of the toasting champagne and did an interpretive dance to "wind beneath my wings". I am literally everything you're not supposed to do at weddings.
But your showmanship is impeccable.
Like I owe him sex. Hell fucking no. I owe myself sex. With a celebrity. Or a clean pornstar. Who knows.
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