Great German Couple - Guy almost cums to early
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Great German Couple - Guy almost cums to early
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I have been with my boyfriend for a few months now. We have had lots of foreplay (about 15 minutes or even longer sometimes) and sometimes tried for quickies with about 3 minutes of foreplay. No matter what the circumstance is he cums within two minutes! At first it was not that much of a problem because the foreplay and oral was really good, but I just want to get rocked and it's very frustrating.
He gets totally satisfied all of the time. We normally go for three rounds and each time he cums within 5 minutes. The best I can do is get on top and he'll last longerr, but it's really not fair. We tried a cock ring... he came once within 2 minutes, stayed hard and came again about 2 minutes later. What can I do? We have plenty of sex and I'm always trying various positions. The longest he goes is with me on top, teasing him and pulling it out frequently. Please help I really care about him, and I mentioned it once and he got VERY upset (like emotional). Please help. Thanks!
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I struggled with PE for years and years. Since my first encounters at the age of 16. I suffer from horrible pelvic muscles that reflex alot from my sensative penis. Even when I dont want them to causing PE. Most of all this was causing major depression and anxiety. I was scared to sleep with women. No man should have to deal with this. I know alot of men do. I probably go in about 2-3 minutes max , mostly around 1-2 minutes.
Some encounters I would have so much anxiety id go before i even entered. Luckily ive had many partners understand. I always feared women cared SO much about sex. So after being completley frustrated and having the taste of great sex for a week i search for Dapoxetine from
http://www.highrepute.net/go/Dapoxetine
I found it online. i popped one at about 9 oclock and had intercourse about 11. I had sex for about 30 mins. I felt the urge to ejaculate for about a min then all of a sudden it was gone. Did not ejaculate at all! Lets just say i got her off 3 times. So next nite i did the same and had sex for an hour and half and still did not go! My new GF thinks im like a p--n star.
@RamonG :
I would like to ask you a few question if possible can we email?
@RamonG :
Find jacky wukio on facebook her technique work greats.
have him jerk off 10-15 mins before you start, sometime the precum make it so its premature, so if he gets rid of the first load it's golden, sometimes it could be a sensitive thing, if so have him foreplay you more and then stick it in, so you can cum at the same time.
Give your bf the juice of cranberry for 2 weeks twice daily.
water and Honey is very important to mix with juice and drink.
after 2 weeks your bf will be very long 16 minutes and very hard.
Good luck. this is Local and natural herb medication, stay away from chemical products.
@Natoshka :
is that true or u bluffing
@Natoshka :
How much of each ingredient? I only try all natural remedies now. I think the chemicals is what has messed me up in the past.
Well, I usually cum in about 30 seconds...
The fastest was when I was 13 with my very first gf Heather!!!
@Malachi824 :
Why were you having sex at 13 years old..
@Alliejade_352 :
I don't about you but I had sex at 11
This reply was removed by the author.
Well you should take that as a compliment, it means you got a nice vagina.
@Barca_fan :
Is that really what it means Barca_fan?
I wish I saw this before !Lol I had the same story from 2 previous girls that been with my now ex
Never got better , I tried the exact same as you .at the end found out he was cheating ,
Perhaps because he cannot please anyone he needed to feel wanted ?
How did it go with you at the end ?
Are you kidding me? You're lucky to be getting it in so much, and it sounds like you work him up so much prior to insertion, of course he's going to burst quick. Is that because its hard to get up or is it hard the hole time? If its not up already then idk, but if he's hard throughout your 15 minutes of foreplay, try reducing that time.
I feeling mad upset cause why done I feeling cum 2 min that why I keep doing this so what can I do for now so why I cum 2 min again
Let him get you off first, i have the same problem as him, ive tried everything nothing seems to help, it seems to be phyical such as more sensitive to where its super easy for me to get off and mental is over excitment. Sometimes i take the blue pill that seems to help sometimes good luck!
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This Video Of A Virgin Boy Visiting A Prostitute For First Time Is Great Lesson For Us
This Video Of A Virgin Boy Visiting A Prostitute For First Time Is Great Lesson For Us
More stories to check out before you go
The first experience of a guy with a prostitute can really be remarkable and if the guy is virgin, there might be a lot worth seeing and enjoying. This video also features love making of a virgin guy who goes to a prostitute and seems nervous (naturally, it’s his first time and the other party is much experienced :D).
After a bit of shyness and formalities, they move ahead to a room upstairs; suddenly it gets dark, only voices can be heard! Obviously, the action was going on… and after getting done with the act, they come out downstairs. Now, it is the time for payment but the boy, who is no more a virgin, gives this prostitute her price or rather the best charge she could ever get. And I bet the thing he offers her would leave you speechless and shocked! What’s that thing or price? Watch in this awesome video…
Click here to watch this video directly on YouTube
Share your views in comments section below
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Copyright © 2019 RVCJ Digital Media Pvt Ltd
This Video Of A Virgin Boy Visiting A Prostitute For First Time Is Great Lesson For Us
This Video Of A Virgin Boy Visiting A Prostitute For First Time Is Great Lesson For Us
More stories to check out before you go
The first experience of a guy with a prostitute can really be remarkable and if the guy is virgin, there might be a lot worth seeing and enjoying. This video also features love making of a virgin guy who goes to a prostitute and seems nervous (naturally, it’s his first time and the other party is much experienced :D).
After a bit of shyness and formalities, they move ahead to a room upstairs; suddenly it gets dark, only voices can be heard! Obviously, the action was going on… and after getting done with the act, they come out downstairs. Now, it is the time for payment but the boy, who is no more a virgin, gives this prostitute her price or rather the best charge she could ever get. And I bet the thing he offers her would leave you speechless and shocked! What’s that thing or price? Watch in this awesome video…
Click here to watch this video directly on YouTube
Share your views in comments section below
Each one of us experiences the pain of losing our loved ones, it may be from...
Children are the future of the country so it is quite necessary that special attention should...
The social media platforms have become so important for people nowadays that they post everything about...
There are many beautiful places in this world but no place is like Kashmir which has...
This April Fool’s Day, TSC has come up with a wonderful film but don’t let the...
There has been a constant debate on women safety, equality, rights and what not and no...
The first season of the business reality show Shark Tank India may have gone off-air but...
We have been witnessing many divorces in the present times and one of the main reasons...
Relationships have changed to a large extent in the present day world as earlier people used...
We have watched many movies and shows related to the medical profession but Sanjay Dutt starrer...
Copyright © 2019 RVCJ Digital Media Pvt Ltd
Part of HuffPost Personal. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
A hug in my attic one afternoon changed everything.
Mar. 12, 2019, 08:15 AM EDT | Updated May. 26, 2022
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The email came from out of the blue a few months ago. It was from the wife of a man I had been secretly involved with. “How long did your affair with my husband last?” she demanded to know. “I’d like the date range of the years, please.”
I always wondered what she knew, if anything. Why was she confronting me now? I hadn’t communicated with her husband — I’ll call him Mike — in more than five years. We live on separate coasts now.
“The least you can do is respond truthfully, given what you’ve done,” she wrote. Was she accusing me of turning her husband gay? Of breaking up their marriage?
That fiery email may have been written in haste. Still, it was years in the making. I now know that deception has a long life span and often returns to claim its guilt.
I never told anyone about my affair with her husband. Too much at stake. Not so much for me ― I was unattached, and my sexual orientation wasn’t a secret. Mike, on the other hand, was a devoted family man with two kids who I know loved his wife.
He was my next-door neighbor, and I did not seduce him, even though I was 20 years older than he was. I’m certain I was the first man he’d been intimate with, while I had, as they say, been around. Our affair wasn’t a sudden, passion-filled trip to the moon on gossamer wings. It was more like a long train ride. It started slowly and lasted some five years.
Mike wasn’t the only married man I’d been involved with. But the others were one-nighters or friends with benefits ― eager conspirators.
We were opposites in many ways: I was a magazine editor. He was a master carpenter. I liked the arts. He liked sports. I splurged on nice clothes and twice-monthly haircuts. He dressed in whatever was handy, usually cut-offs, T-shirts, Birkenstocks and a tool belt.
One night when his wife and kids were away, we went to see a movie about a giant meteor heading for Earth. He told me that he was 16 before he ever saw a movie. He had seen it on the sly because his parents were evangelicals and movies, TV, and pop music were all considered tools of the devil.
What we shared was a passion for the past. One night Mike took me to a fire station that was about to be demolished. We broke in. He wanted me to see what was going to disappear: a cast-iron farmer’s sink, a pulley for hauling ice to the second-floor window. He explained to me the building’s ingenious post and beam construction.
I once showed him a wood inlaid jewelry box that depicted a family playing cards around a kitchen table. My great-grandmother brought it from Germany. “It’s beautiful,” he told me, gently running his fingers over the different woods. “Don’t ever give it away.”
My Victorian flat always needed repair. I had no idea how to install ceiling fans or fix doorbells. Mike did. He once spent a week patiently refinishing the beadboard in my kitchen. He made the century-old wood glisten like new using only sandpaper and baby oil.
We were friends for several years before becoming lovers.
“He was my next-door neighbor, and I did not seduce him, even though I was 20 years older than he was. ... Our affair wasn’t a sudden, passion-filled trip to the moon on gossamer wings. It was more like a long train ride. It started slowly and lasted some five years.”
With his wavy black hair, cobalt eyes and droopy eyelashes, Mike had no idea how sexy he was, or could be. Yet his lack of vanity only enhanced his allure. I once stuffed him into my tuxedo when his wife insisted he accompany her to her workplace’s black-tie event. Put a martini in his hand and he could have been James Bond.
Mike would drop by my place after his wife and kids were in bed. We would watch baseball games, make popcorn. Sometimes we’d share a joint, which deepened our enjoyment of “Antiques Roadshow.”
I agreed to let Mike set up his saws and tools in my attic after he told me he couldn’t afford to rent a workshop. That meant seeing him at all hours.
There were signs, some blatant, that he was struggling with his sexuality. Like the time he told me he had gone on a porn site to see how gay men “do it.” He confided to me that when he was in college, he had been attracted to another male student but didn’t act on it.
It usually took a few beers for him to start opening up.
A mutual hug in my attic one afternoon changed everything.
Even after our relationship became physical, it took months for Mike to feel comfortable kissing. I’ve known couples, gay and straight, who were in open relationships. Many made a pact that they could mess around with others as long as they didn’t kiss. Sex can be a purely tactile, pleasurable experience. But kissing is up close and personal.
My nights were as free as his. I was in my 50s and I had outgrown discos and late-night bars. There was no Grindr back then. Craigslist was in its infancy. I could no longer bear meeting faceless strangers from newspaper ads.
I didn’t know Mike’s wife well, despite our being neighbors. She wasn’t the social type. Books, cats and gardening were her pleasures.
“What if she finds out about us?” I asked Mike.
I’ve been cheated on in several relationships, so I know how it feels.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. She’s not a confrontational person,” he said. “The other night, she told me she was tired and suggested I go hang out with my butt buddy.”
“What did she mean by that?” I asked.
I was, or so I thought. I figured that on some level, she was OK with this good-neighbor policy. That helped ease my conscience.
Besides, I wasn’t out to steal her husband, even though same-sex marriage did become legal in our state in 2004.
I wasn’t being completely honest when I said I never told anyone about Mike and me. My downstairs neighbor, who I had become close friends with over the years, figured it out. She could hear Mike’s footsteps coming and going on the stairwell, the squeak of bedsprings. “Mike’s a good person,” she told me. “You’re helping him become his true self. You should feel no guilt.”
I’ve never had children or wanted them. Mike’s, however, were a joy to be with. I worked from home, so it was easy for me to babysit them on school breaks and summer vacations. I’d take them to their swim lessons. We’d go bowling, miniature golfing. They introduced me to “SpongeBob SquarePants.”
Mike was always struggling to make ends meet. Yet not having money didn’t matter when it came to his boys. He gave them something dollars can’t buy: his time and attention. He once spent a day with them riding the subway lines. He got them memberships to a science museum. He taught them to Rollerblade and play hockey. I would go with them on weekend hikes. I would bring my dog and lunch. His wife never wanted to go along.
I lent Mike and his wife a down payment to buy a house. It felt good to do something positive for his family. His wife worked out a payment plan, which she stuck to. Mike converted the basement of his new digs to a workshop. Despite living in a different neighborhood, he still came by.
“My downstairs neighbor figured it out. She could hear Mike’s footsteps coming and going on the stairwell, the squeak of bedsprings. ‘Mike’s a good person,’ she told me. ‘You’re helping him become his true self. You should feel no guilt.’”
I can’t give a precise date when it all came crashing down. All I know is there were no more late-night visits, trips to Home Depot or those delicious foot rubs that he voluntarily gave. Mike simply disappeared without a goodbye. My phone calls went unanswered. He blocked me on Facebook. We never argued, so it wasn’t as if he stormed off in a huff.
Desperate for an answer, I bravely — and foolishly — called his wife. “What’s going on with Mike?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” she said. “He never mentions you.”
Our train ride had come to its final station.
I had to take an honest look at myself. What I needed was a real boyfriend, one who I could go to the theater with. Or to restaurants. One who wouldn’t leave me waiting for him to come by on a Saturday night, only not to show up. One who I could tell my friends and co-workers about.
Then one afternoon, four years later, I saw Mike. I was taking my dog for a walk, cutting through a baseball field that abuts a wooded area. He was lobbing softballs over home plate to his boys. Seeing me, he trotted over to where I was. He took off his Red Sox cap. “I’m getting a little gray,” he said. I said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking my hand. “Really sorry.”
“C’mon, dad,” his boys yelled, and with that, Mike jogged back to the pitcher’s mound.
I finally had my explanation. His boys were becoming young men, old enough to ask questions and figure things out.
I should have foreseen this scenario. During the 1990s I lived in the Deep South. The steam room and sauna at my local Y served as a kind of after-work social club for men who were gay ― and for those who had wives and kids.
I would sometimes ask these men why they got married. “I wanted a family. I wanted children” was the usual reply. I asked one devoted father why he stayed in the South when he could have moved to a blue state. “I couldn’t live more than a few miles from my mama and daddy,” he said.
I knew a gay impresario when I lived in San Francisco in the 1980s. One night he threw a dinner party for his gay circle of friends at Trader Vic’s. Over tropical cocktails, he announced that he had just gotten engaged to a divorcée with two girls. “I’m going to have a family now, “ he told the table. “I can no longer see any of you again.”
“I would sometimes ask these men why they got married. ‘I wanted a family. I wanted children’ was the usual reply.”
I didn’t respond to Mike’s wife’s angry email. I figured that was Mike’s job, since h
Beim Öl-Test auf blanken Titten schwillt sein Pimmel an
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