So I've officially decided that I AM that drunken mistake that girls hate themselves for in the morning.
Stage 55 clinger. not a typo. I cannot even believe this shit.
He kept surfacing with a delighted look on his face, guessing different types of food to try to figure out what makes my pussy taste so good.
I vaguely remember you trying to make me a casserole with marshmallows and a can of beer.
So is there some kind of punch card you and I get to use every time we fuck a chick with a cast?
Dear slutty diary: I lied about feeling guilty of being a homewrecker in order to have more sex. it worked.
I don't know if I want to live in a world where i can't fuck an exes brother.
Well she described you as a "Sex-Viking", which seemed to be only slightly related to the red beard. So things are looking good!
He's doing his thing where I don't know if he's alive until three in the afternoon so idk
Well, we ended up labeling the relationship. We are now each other's designated butt-toucher.
We popped the air mattress last night via sex and we just kept going but it feels like I have a bruise on every vertebrae
We discussed how many times we've passed out during sex. The answers may shock you.
Just walked outside my house; realized I wasn't wearing any pants after about 3 minutes or so.
Drunk, high, hungover?
...I wish I had an excuse.
well tomorrow I get to eat fungus and go to an abandoned city.
most people would fear that statement, but i wish to join you
I hate when I'm sexting and I make a typo.
You just killed the sext mood.
Randomize
