I wouldn't call it sex. It's like when you put a plug in a socket half way. It's not all the way in but it still turns on the light.
wicked high...have munchies. cherry flavor lube. problem solved.
That shot tasted like Sant Claus came in my mouth. I love the holidays.
I don't know what you drank last night but you really enjoyed the 4 egg body shots.
Whatever, the fact of the matter is that I saved you from poorly planned outdoor sex by doing a rain dance and you should totally thank me.
We ran out of ice cubes so I used ice cream. Everyone thought that was the plan all along. I just went with it.
I think the main reason you were throwing up so much was the quart of soap you chugged trying to burp bubbles. you came close
I'm microwaving a frozen bottle of Two Buck Chuck while watching The Proposal with my housemate. I'm not sure what success is like, but I'm fairly confident this isn't it.
A drunk hobo just gave me a fist bump. Because I know what a womb is.
This juggling 3 dicks is getting exhausting
My gut feeling that we had reached a new level of intimacy last night was confirmed early this morning when you sleep farted on penis.
He told me the hickey on the side if his neck was actually a "bruise" from hitting a bird on his motorcycle. I'm not sure what's more impressive, the fact people believed him due to the size of the mark or the fact you gave it to him.
I wore home his HoHoHo boxers. I've never felt such a connection to an article of clothing.
My gynecologist just said "don't worry, this won't be as hard as…well…" A FUCKING SEX JOKE NO
I woke up at 6:30 in the morning on the A train on 14th street. You wouldn't know anything about that right?
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