I asked him if he wanted to go to my place, he said i could go but he was gonna stay
the bulge in his pants is not junk. its hair. trust.
we didnt fuck last night. again. seriously, his place is like where dreams go to die.
hahaha Yeah oh well, she wrote on my facebook wall, That's almost like a digital hand job
It was all about her orgasm last night. I felt like a human dildo.
11am puke and rally. THIS is what I'm gonna miss about college.
It's when I'm in my pajamas and in need of a gin delivery that I miss NYC most of all.
And then she was like, "don't do anything. No blow jobs, don't let him stick his fingers in weird places because people have germs."
Who was that couple sleeping in your bed with us last night?
I blacked out after the shots of canned lobster bisque.
Ok the fact that you know THAT phrase perfectly is terrifying. You just proved you can slut it up in mulitiple languages.
Casually brushing the Bacardi out of my hair. It's a good time to ponder regretting everything that happened last night.
I can't wait for you to tell me about your sex.
It's a short, short story.
His status said "sad." of course I liked it. I don't even care that I was the only one. Facebook isn't your god damn journal, we don't care about your problems.
My favourite part was when you contorted upside down in the tub and said "I don't want to be upside down"
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