I wish there was a hungover fairy to brush my teeth and bring me a diet coke.
he kept doing his monologue, "if a vagina could talk."
Its not christmas eve unless I give him head. I wont take no for an answer
I woke up this morning covered in blood and peanut butter. I am now safe from vampires with nut allergies.
Now that I'm born again, I'm preserving my gift.
Your vagina isn't a White Elephant gift. You can't re-wrap it after it's already been given several times. That's white trash thinking.
And that's the fourth pair of yoga pants with unwashable stains from you.
I wish I cared about making my vagina as presentable as you do.
We were apparently using marine hand signals to communicate to one another where to meet up in the house to hook up.
Didn't even know I knew marine hand signals.
Walking down the street, Bro bumping to 'still' by dre. Dropped his trash on the ground and aggressively sped up when his light turned green. If you still had love for the streets you wouldn't of fucking littered. Took everything for me not to yell at him. I know you would've.
Well I'm going to hell. But I'm going after multiple orgasms.
He didn't have much of a personality. But I had like 100 orgasms, so that's cool.
Remind me to tell you: When threeways go awry, my MLK weekend story.
Like every two minutes he would pull out and whipser "don't you do it, you bastard" while looking at his penis. His new name in my phone is 'penis whisperer'
So, I can officially cross "getting eaten out in a church confession booth" off my bucket list.
At least I’m an “essential employee” and can still bang my boss. \n\nFingers crossed my husband doesn’t ask why I’m essential, the orgasms are too good to give up during this pandemic
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