Dub. In the bra. Dub in the bra.
I'm drunk
Is that why you're texting me
Yes
remind me tomorrow that nothing happen between me and the guy who's shirt i'm wearing
he thought i was passed out so he proceeded to jerk off while i lay on the floor next to him
I'm sending you this that that when you wake up and see the girl sleeping next to you, you know who to thank
No. Mother. Fucking. Jello shots. Just no. I'm not falling into that trap again.
That man gives me hope. I can't help it. And by "hope" I mean "wood."
Its official, if she bites your dick through your jeans, ya'll go together. A lesson you shouldn't have to learn after the fact.
my window is missing, there is half a pizza jammed into the disk slot of my PS3, and the entire kitchen floor is covered in cerial i cant see any wood floor. did we have fun?
I can't even express how horny I am. The English language isn't equipped for what I'm plotting.
Left Las Vegas at 2:30 am, woke up at 11 AM at a Barstow gas station with the Valet from Ceaser' palace snoring in the backseat and no memory of how we got there. I felt like Raoul Fucjing Duke right then and there.
It's become almost a Pavlovian response. The sound of the vacuum being run by hubby causes an instantaneous involuntary orgasm.
I'm a shining star this evening. Dancing with a cane in rite aid now. I should be kept under survaillance.
And he kept lifting up his shirt every few minutes to check if his nipples were still there
Guess whose grandma smokes weed?
Randomize
