Dude I think you forgot how to talk last night. We kept asking if you wanted a condom and you just smiled and made weird noises...
If him repeating sorry while thrusting isn't makeup sex than I don't know what else is
I want to die. Marc and I were making out in the hallway and fell into a fire hose in a glass case. It shattered everywhere. Everyone thought we fell out a window. I think I have glass in my back. Awesome.
Just doin' what I do best: sitting in a stall in the class building's bathroom, pondering life and exploring deep, dark corners of the internet before class.
I'd say I'd distract him, but I lose my psychic powers when guys get girlfriends. And by psychic powers I mean taking off my top.
I'm never drinking again. I saw way more penises than I ever cared to see last night. And I've decided that I'm going to live in Scotland.
I need an explanation for both of these epiphanies.
It blows my mind that pandora doesn't have an : I want to lay in bed in the dark and be sad and cold and eat frozen mangos and chipotle all day station
If his smile makes you freak out and drop things imagine what his penis could do
Next time a random bus filled with santas pulls up to the bar, I'm not getting on it.
I texted him a series of texts in which the first letters of each text spelled out "WE SHOULD HAVE SEX". If that's not dedication to the dick, I don't know what is
It's one of the few times I hit fuck it levels of not caring
her nickname was handjob. I knew what i was getting into.
you are the only girl i know that would bring a plate of cookies to a hook up. but they were awesome. thanks. next time cupcakes?
I was told I was gorgeous and a whore by the drag queens. My night is complete.
tell me about the eggs
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