I looked him in the face and asked if we could stop. he asked why. I said "I can't feel it.". ...I feel bad; I should have faked.
ok so I'm texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting aaron and telling him how badly I want his cock tonight. aren't you proud?
this is Aaron, hi
I was to the point where my socks were drenched in ranch dressing
I remember all the people and all the acts I just have to match the person with the act
I kind of learned that hotels are unnecessary. Boys will just take you home, but that's tough with a group. I believe in us, though.
I'm not sure that our 12-years-ago-high-school-"relationship," and 179 texts in the last 4 hours is gonna be enough to squeeze a naked smartphone picture of me. I'm gonna need some chicken wings or Makers Mark before that starts happening.
my last clear memory of the night was being offered a shot but having so much alcohol in my hands that someone literally had to pour it in my mouth for me. after that it pretty much skips to waking up face down and shirtless on my floor.
It was like coming out my mothers vagina again in slow motion
Blow job season was short but glorious.
You think he will forgive me for the paper being a week late if I bring him a beer?
...it's a 9am class...
Sorry for all the snapchats, I wanted you to feel like u were in America getting plastered with me
I still don't know his name but his ass is spectacular. Like he should never wear pants.
Apparently mid making out I got up and said "I need to figure out my life" went in the bathroom and threw up for two hours.
I'm sorry I called your mother a reasonably-priced receptacle.
Do you know anyone else that comes home with unexplainable injuries as many nights a week as we do?
Randomize
