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Sex Fail: The 45 Minute BJ

When the Frat Boy I had my eye on invited me over under the guise of “hanging out,”  eating pizza, and watching a scary movie, I arrived with hairy legs to ensure my pants stayed on.

Within minutes, the lights dimmed, the movie started, and so did the shoulder massage, which quickly evolved into neck nibbling and  kissing. Admittedly, he was a fantastic kisser, with soft lips that tasted like cherries (literally – I later checked his medicine cabinet and found a tube of Cherry Chapstick).

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