It's Friday. Sex?
come home now. i got a twizzler tangled in my hair again
i keep looking at my boobs and it just baffles me how he could give this up.
He told me that if his bed could talk, it'd write a medical journal. Guess it's too late to worry about that now.
Can we dedicate this weekends marathon sexcapades to all the haters?
I'm wearing red that night.
Noted, what shade?
Whore.
I learned so much about myself in that shower.
Well, after emptying the contents of my stomach into a fucking rose bush, the only things moving through my digestive system are pills, coffee, and my own lip gloss. If that gives you any idea what kind of a day I'm having.
I think he bit my vagina. Who does that?
I need to immerse myself in a tub of peroxide to kill whatever traces of him are on me.
I apparently asked the cab driver to show us his dick and then he showed me a picture of his girlfriend
i like beer, sex, and cooking. what more can he want?
whatever. i just wanna get "forget my own name" wasted
no. you need to know your name so people know where to return you when you get lost.
Let me atleast have my coffee before you start talking about your penis
for future reference, singing eye of the tiger outside my door while i am having sex makes me incredibly uncomfortable
apparently not uncomfortable enough for you to stop
Randomize
