i permit you to call me
Holy shit! This guy had his hands and feet handcuffed and was scooting across the interstate and we almost hit him because it was so dark. I hate Louisiana.
I don't understand how he can't hear himself snoring, but he'll wake up to me sneaking m&m's from my junk food stash beside the bed...
I bruised his dick. I bruised his dick WITH MY MOUTH!! I've never felt more accomplished.
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After Sake bombs he tried to puke into an alluminum beer bottle and shot vomit streaks in a perfect V out the sides of his mouth and hit BOTH girls he had bought drinks for that night. He was like an Icon of Cock-blocking yourself.
In hindsight, the torn ligament in my knee is probably the fault of the ginbucket and jager bombs starting at 3pm. I guess I'll stop blaming it on you.
It's official. This guy and I are going gay for each other. We're tasting the fucking rainbow.
Is it bad that I don't ask for names anymore? Just added "gold-chain-wearing hotel guy" to my list under "minivan 3way" and "funny-tasting gym guy."
For the sake of my mom, I can't sleep with two guys with the same name. She has a hard enough time keeping up as it is
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The whorange rubbed off. His white shirt was so gross at the end of the night I told him to frame it.
right now I need to figure out a smart way to get an accurate picture of his dick so I know what in dealing with, right now in flying blind.
how do you make "fuck me in the break room" sound casual?
As a gentleman whose genital hole is relatively small, you could imagine my reaction
I'm in the fetal position trying to figure out a way to get someone to deliver me pancakes.
I miss painting strippers for Christmas. Holidays not the same without glitter and body paint
I'll be your substitute stripper tonight.
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