You spent all night looking for some hot mean fucker to ream your throat and plow your ass. Finally
You spent all night looking for some hot mean fucker to ream your throat and plow your ass. Finally after 8 bars, you score. When you finally get him home, he starts pushing you around. You begin to feel uneasy. As you pull away from him, he knocks you down to the floor. Uneasy just became full-on fear. You look up at him and he’s just standing there, looking at you. And then like a flash, you get your only sensible thought for the night: You are full-on drunk and he is not. -- source link