Spreading the Techniques of Love no. 1

I’m republishing here some useful tips on being the man on the job…If you are gonna hafta do something, do it good, do it right!

Be A Boob Man

“It drives me insane when my boyfriend takes the time to pay attention to my boobs. I don’t just mean grabbing, I mean kissing and licking until my nipples are hard and then giving them little bites. By that time I’m usually so wet that just a little fingering will make me cum—and the times he’s bitten down while his hand is down there I’ve had the most mind-blowing orgasms ever.”
—Laine, 27

Slumber Party

Why did you mount me while I was asleep? I was dreaming when you pored molten spots on my body with your radioactive kisses while the radio was playing our song, Sweetest Taboo. Tired of the long day and making the bed as a sanctum and refuge, you invaded my privacy and unleashed my wild thing, ravishing and devouring at will while I was set afire with a probing flaming breath at my loins.

Immediately, seemingly unwillingly yet hypnotized by a charmer’s flute, my tor went up in a roar, a bore like a tamed boar you soared on the wings of love above grinding and threshing the oats making me swear an oath preventing the oil to float while you’re rocking the boat. Deftly you rode the node sliding the mother lode on autopilot mode banging the great spot hot greater than pot not your usual drunk shot.

I knew you got what you wanted when your nails lacerated my chest underrated by other women but you created an animal in me. You didn’t stop your knees pinning my arms while you drilled and drilled with my swollen member and you massaged my balls, the lava in them raring to explode in a facial expression of love.

You want the rush repeatedly heatedly un-debating-ly delivering the special delight deconstructing the meaning of consensual sex and forced coupling. What would my friends say if a video of me abused and used where uploaded in the internet while you came on top of your optimum form while I groaned in semi-conscious gratification and biting my lip to prevent the pre-qualified escape of life-giving gas.

How dare you pull my hair while my eyes are shut tight trying hard to keep the dream and the cream shut tight and suck at my lower lip while the rush cascaded and gamboled in your interior design online divine car wash cleaning time, my Chevy on your levy, sultry.

I thought someone was pulling at my testicles as John testified the test of strength has triumphed in multiple emissions of pure white power and converted to rejuvenating lotion on someone’s lips. And then a deep calm descended on my being and a deeper sleep enveloped me. I soon realized when I woke up I slept 12 hours.

Ambrosiarotica 1.0

I don’t know how they do it, but I know that I know…when attention is truly focused on it, like a ray gun emitting laser light, things get clearer and brighter and therefore, hotter.

In every starship, fingers are essential, indispensible, you tap, insert, enter, press the tab, or just simply navigate all over the orifice that is our office. I’ll be looking at the star map all the time though, whose hologram is the brilliant orbs of your eyes, the luscious scintillating galaxy of your lips, the wonderful universe of your face, yet the fingers are busy where they’re at.

Use the trackballs but gently does it, don’t squeeze too much or we’ll end up in another galaxy or chase you tromping out in the cold night, been there, done that, so it won’t happen again, by the time you met me as your star pilot I’m already an expert. I move the tip of my finger around that holo that looks like a pink nipple then as if by impulse I felt like a kid and needing milk. Feeling suckled brings you to a whole new world altogether. You become an alien, with your speaking in tongues almost husky soprano while I use my tongue down there, how violent you are for pulling at my hair like a female Klingon. Elvis said, ‘don’t be cruel’, I’m following the rule, delaying the tool.

I panic when the forward screen looks its rushing to a squirting beach I get more moisture than I hoped for. You spasm like a recent stopped jogger. Then I feel glad, breathless, but glad.

Age Does Matter

I have a friend who confided to me something really intimate I fear that I might go through the same thing myself.   This is what he told me in between shots of vodka:

“You know Tom, I have to admit…sex is becoming a little more difficult to perform in middle age.  My wife does not know it, but it getting harder for me to keep up with her needs.  When we were younger, I last longer, and she comes faster.  It’s not so hard to be in rhythm when I was never panting back then, my member was as hard as a rock, and she was fully lubricated like a 24 hour car wash station.

“Now, it’s either I would either come too soon, or go soft inside her.  She does not lubricate as much as she used to.  Trying to stay hard gives me headaches after.  The only consolation I have is that when she does come, after a miracle of thrusting to a point of a trance, she gets really tired and then, I feel okay.  But not without the physical repercussions.  It shows when I go back to work: the slips, lapses, memory problems, endurance, stress coping.

“I hope she realizes that even though I am still trying hard to be the lover I should be for her, she must realize that as age progresses, sexual satisfaction must give way to physiological realities.  I don’t angle for younger women, I have a reality check every time I look myself in the mirror.  I know I can’t stop middle-aged women from wanting young, muscled studs but in my opinion, consumerism aside, it is not appropriate anymore to linger on self-satisfaction at the expense of negative self-image, double life, and infidelity to someone who has been loyal to you for a long time.  Besides, we don’t need to come all the time, don’t we?  It’s enough we cuddle, feel each other tenderly, and be less lonely, right?

“I think we should take sex and our relationship to the next level, and abandon the animal instincts that makes us addicted to self-indulgement to the point of making a purely recreational, intimate, relaxing, bonding activity into something central to our life at the expense of other more important aspects of living.

“But the problem I really have, Tom, is how could I open this up to her?  Sorry if I have to open up to you like this, but man, I don’t know to whom I can turn to.  You’re the blogger, you gotta have something up your sleeve.  I love her.  But I don’t want our marriage to be rocky just because our genitals are getting rusty.  Well?

Do be honest, I was speechless that night at the bar.  I was embarrassed at not being eloquent or inspired to give my friend so sparky counsel to spark their relationship.  Maybe because I fear I might come to that point to and I would feel inadequate myself.  Could I tell him that our women, our wives, will eventually understand what we’re going through?  I gave him a few sophistic mumblings about regaining manhood, it’s all a cycle yada-yada, but I did bite my tongue in recommending pills or diets.  Nope, I won’t recommend anything of that sort.

I am at a loss too.

I don’t really post often, part of my busy schedule, but if you find this post intriguing and you might want to help out me and my friend, feel free to leave some advise regarding this dilemma and I assure you I will acknowledge and reply to your comment as soon as I am able.

Thanks, and have a good day.

with no performance enhancers

Too much thinking and studying does affect sexual performance, and that’s based on my experience. If your mind is filled with theories, arguments, deadlines, and essays, imagination that powers the sex drive would have a deadly downfall. So, as a partial solution, I have been going herbal so that I would be a better Her-bivore.  A tea to sustain and increase sexual stamina, a pill there to thicken the bole, a tablet there to add volume to the milk of human kindness. To avoid side-effects, it is not advisable to regularly take these enhancers, lest we end up like Harry Osborne in the Amazing Spider Man. But that is also pretty much assured because we have sex when the time is ripe and when both are very much in the mood. I have resigned to the fact that my girlfriend would only love to have it when she wants it, and my aggressiveness is reserved to the moment when she lets me have it.

I was almost to the point of panic when unexpectedly she cuddles me and from our usual walk home she pulls me to a clean and homely inn where she wants to get her fill of love. I was surprised with myself when I was able to last longer and harder than I was even with those herbals. She even gave me that remark. That made me a little proud at the moment.

I Screwed Up at such a Delicious Score

I was tempted to ask her, “Did I do well? Was it good? Did you come lots of times?” and naturally, considerately, she will say everything was alright. However, I will not go that direction. I did ask if she did come, and she said yes. I know that she did when I went done on her and while painting my expressionistic masterpiece, my fingers were also stirring the pot of healing stew. She pulled me hair and sang the most melodious song. But what was pathetic was what happened before that.

I don’t usually do this, but I usually ignore the beauty that is generously shown me and just do the manly work. I also do a lot of foreplay. In this occasion, I just gave in to my enthusiasm and went ahead to the center of attraction. A woman who is not fully aroused with a lot of foreplay and kisses and touches will have a very tight and viscous lubricated vagina. That in turn will make it harder to a rhythmic thrusting and orgasm will be harder to bring about. This is were I screwed up. And I paid for it big time. It became harder for me to block the increasing sensation and I had to pull out because I was about to come, and my juice dripped like gobbets of gold, not a good sign too. Which means I haven’t been jacking off that much. Forget your sexuality and sex life and you can say goodbye to being an American Gigolo. I’m trying to balance everything in my life, and at this point, I have neglected little old John. When it was time to perform, he got the stage fright, and choked in the rap battle.

I compensated by being silently eloquent and preternaturally dexterous. She came strong and was even asking for some minutes rest. But I have already lost my rhythm and drive. The nuggets that were lost to me were a lot. I knew I had also disrupted her own flow. I admit my mistake and this should not happen again.

Would it help I had a terrible migraine the afternoon before and I had taken my dinner? I am not happy with excuses. I lost it and I lost it, that’s it. No alibis. I should have thought of it and I have mismanaged an otherwise wonderful sharing of love, made lesser than glorious than it’s supposed to be. Nobody’s perfect, but when lovemaking comes as this seldom than before, I better get my act together.

Polygamy or Abundance?

Are men born polygamous or is that there’s just a lot of beauty that catches our attention and makes us desire and want to acquire, usually behind our professed love’s backs. The catch with indulging our petty urges is this, there can only be one Queen for every King, and the King that makes every woman a queen ends up losing everything in the process of objectification and a waste of marginal resources merited by those who spend their valuable time on us. When I say valuable, it is not a girl who is willing to give you sex. It is that trusting being whom you chose as your lifelong partner, who labors and toils to help you make life sweeter and brighter, who deserves everything you have and more.

The Benefits of Exercise

Nothing makes you really look sexy than getting all puffed up after doing a 30 minute workout. I did notice that after I played with my dumbbell a bit, doing push ups and flexing my muscles so that the flab would harden made me taller, with an erect posture, and the haggardness from the face was just taken off, lifted like so many wasted years. After I did that, I got lucky. My photos seemed to show a more photogenic me, devoid of the burdens I am carrying.

Started doing weights after I got frustrated with my dieting. I love to eat, so why should I make myself suffer? Since I could not get my weight down, it would be best to really break into a sweat, before both of you are planning to sweat it out.

Absence makes the heart go fonder

I believe nothing makes a man die earlier than a deprivation of sex. Oh yeah, I’ll get a rap from the Feminist community for being such a jerk but this is only a rant and don’t expect too much seriousness from a dried up old young man who is strictly trying to hold on the last remaining drop of humor from his body. 

If they say that sex does wonders for the health, what happens when one is denied it, especially if that one is a person of great talent for rugmunching? Where can a decent man find some decent confident boosting when he is forced to resort to prostitutes for by the hour rip offs?

Who would be controlling whom? The only person who could bolster your ego is the one that is a hypocrite for denying you a valuable commodity. You follow her around like  some lovelorn carrot follower and wait till she flashes you that mischievous smile. You become meeker than a lamb of Mary’s. Guess, we have to listen to Jimmy Giles when he sang, “I guess I have to buy it!” Buy it from the best source, the one I love.