This reminds me of that one time I tried to spice things up in the bedroom by wearing a dress for my boyfriend. It may sound completely unrelated to the FML, but it totally leads in to the whole thing. M'kay, so there I was, in full drag and with freshly-braided nipples, wearing a fake beard made out of Perdix' crotch hair, and cow's blood smeared on my lips in a cheap and yet magnificent imitation of the vintage lipstick of old. Once I'd finished sexily morris-dancing to the tune of Call on Me, I lifted my dress up sexily, anticipating an immediate ravishing, and all the glorious sounds of pealing thunder that would ensue.
So what does he do? He only calls me a freak for wearing my frilly edible teletubbies panties inside out on a fucking LUNAR ECLIPSE. I mean, what the dick, people? Here I am, trying to be sexy for my man, and I'M the bad guy? Is there no justice in this world? Wee-woo.
+62 | 9
I live in the sewers, and your ring fit my new fiancée perfectly :) thank you for your donation.
Speak your mind, but please try and be respectful.
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