No, you can still breathe under the balls.
I love you. And by the way. I found out a way for you to train your gag reflex. Elliot taught us in math.
Sorry i'm not sorry i made out with your dad. It was father's day weekend, get a grip
I already wrote the apology to my liver. He knows whats up
good, we got high then went swimming. shelly forgot to keep swimming so we tied her to the ladder in the shallow part with her bikini top.
Hm, finding a time when my drinking and your real life don't conflict could be difficult
I always hoped that one day I'd have a sex position named in my honor.
sex on the stairs. not our finest idea.
She looks well worn, presumably from a cavalcade of penis.
Waking up in a NH rest stop and reading through my texts is definitely a familiar low
it is my last wish that my tale be published posthumously as a warning to anyone thinking of eating burger king at nine am
Seriously. I'm like, "Wait, we are actually talking about physics in the middle of sex and its ACTUALLY erotic because you're so fucking intelligent I'm turned on?"
Didn't have the heart to tell him that while he was eating my ass I was laughing, not moaning, into the pillow
Snow days are when you really appreciate that your neighbor is on your bang roster.
Remember the time you puked your contact lens out?
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