I've been emailing with a woman. I don't think she's into me, but we've become sorta email buddies. I'm hoping to meet her because on her profile she states she's into 'fisting.' Frankly the thought kinda freaks me out but I'm dying to see what kind of woman is 1) into that and 2) admits it upfront.
Her vagina is like Vegas. high traffic and full of glitter.
On my arm I have 12 dashes, and below is written "plus 2 pretty stout whiskey drinks, so, you be the judge"
Grape juice and vodka is NOT wine.
We made out for three hours. Then she said she didn't sleep with redheads and left the party. So yes, I'm still drinking.
Something's wrong. My throat is definitely not in it's normal spot. Way too low.
Just ate a whole pizza by myself. Wearing my indian headdress again. its really cool with the french braids. I look like fucking pocahontas or some shit.
I love our strategizing... I wish we used the same passion for planning our lives and future that we use for planning our drunken escapades... We would both be doctors by now, I swear
You made out with a guy who refers to his cock as "rafiki." Are you proud of yourself?
Also they do not have any come back to america, i miss my fuck buddy cards at Hallmark.
Life Lesson #1 of 2013: double-fisting shower beers and shaving my bikini line should be reserved for two different showers.
HOW DID ALL OF US MISS THE OBVIOUS: I'LL SHAKE YOUR SPEARE
If people had ratings on Tinder I'd give you 5 out of 5 stars.
You’ll lick BBQ off my cock but no ketchup on a hotdog?
He was eating me out on a samsung washing machine and as soon as I came, I heard the "end of cycle" song. That tune will now always remind me of the screaming, multiple orgasms I recieved tonight!
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