I molested 6 butterflies tonight
Everything went well, until I walked into his bedroom and there was a Ronald Reagan poster watching over his bed - creepy
being a part time student has turned me into a full time alcoholic.
he opened up his "box of magic": a crusty tube of KY jelly, three expired condoms, a fingertip vibrater, and a jar of marshmallow fluff.
The waiter to-go cupped my bloody mary without me even asking. THAT hungover.
The last thing I remember was you puking all over the inside of my door and him yelling "PUKING RALLY!!!"
I'm thinking blowjobs and wheelchair sex should be part of any post-injury wellness plan.
Then you bent down and whispered, "excuse me mr. Stair, could you please stop moving?"
I woke up with my name tag for work still on my shirt. It was a rough night.
he told me to take care of him and then he asked me to walk him to his hotel. I already have a pussy. I don't need another one
So is it safe to say that my only objective from last night is to finish this entire jar of peanut butter?
Went to night shots with Kayla... she punched this guy and I got his friends number. Not sure if she's the best or worst wingman ever.
I was just tongue fucked into oblivion.
I literally am filling up a victoria's secret bag with stuff that would give my parents a heart attack to hide in my roommates' room. This is being an adult when parents visit
I swear to god, no guy has been as interested in sticking stuff up my butt as this girl
Randomize