I used to have a blog that was basically all about ****** and all of his sexual misadventures
I mean it made tucker max look like a fucking alterboy
But unfortunatley his mom did a google search and found it
conclusion of the day: americans need to get on tredmills, people need to learn how to flush toliets and learn how to pee in then instead of on them, and waiters shouldnt tell their life stories to customers.
So he sent me a text that said "say hi to your vajayjay for me"
Was there any message he wanted you to relay to your asshole?
i just identified you from a description of your pipe
She had to put it in. I told her I was too drunk and didnt trust myself to not put it in her ass.
she moved to the other side of town, do you realize how far i gotta walk to get a blow job???
Try not to bring up the fact that I woke up and couldn't find my pants... He might get the wrong idea.
on a related note, did you know that the fire alarm in our apartment talks?
making out was so insane. it felt like our tongues were paintbrushes made of waves and we were painting an ocean galazy
He held back my hair as I puked, then kindly asked me to slightly move my head over and pissed right next to my face.
I saw your relationship status and wanted to write "Now you can fuck with some peace of mind that she isn't giving that other guy she met online a handjob."
He stopped in the middle of us banging in order to check in for his Southwest flight.
See, this is why we give you shit. Ashley gets her car cleaned out, I get multiple enchiladas made, and you get cum in your eye.
Let's just say, I will never again lick an asshole.
We smell like vodka and hangover
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