The shirt is mine, the pants are mine, the bra not so much
she took her clothes off and my dick went from =====> to =>
dude, i was at the student union last night trying to study but some retarded sorority spent an hour voting on the color of the seasons shirts like it was a UN meeting- someone motioned purple, someone objected, and half an hour later after 2 recounts they decided on purple
he couldn't find his key, so we just had sex on his parent's porch while we waited for his mom to get home.
As it turns out, strippers don't accept checks.
At least it earned you a couple drinks. And something tells me you've touched grosser things with less incentive.
Interesting preview of what next year will be like. Side note, missing a chunk of flesh from my middle finger.
It's like a puppy that we have to take care of at all times or else she'll get sad, lonely, and chew on the furniture. And by 'chew on the furniture', I mean have anonymous sex.
Plans for halloween need to outrank Caesar, Cleopatra and Mark Antony's threesome...just saying
My blowjobs put them in a state of relaxation similar to that of getting hit with a tranquilizer. The fear comes after the sex.
They were taking shots out of the caps of perfume bottles. This is too much for me.
That girl definitely just ate a hot dog and stared straight in to my eyes.
his daughter has his phone and goesss ohhh boobies and shows me a picture of my own tits...
I'm having a martini with dinner. A new level of class.
I'm stoned and eating mustard, also a new level of class.
Never go with a hippy to a second location. I fucking hate Xanax.
Randomize
