Received: from nobody by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with local (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cPY0V-0003Vq-BF for lojban-newreal@lojban.org; Fri, 06 Jan 2017 09:08:47 -0800 Received: from [198.23.140.219] (port=59562 helo=beamonsterinbed.com) by stodi.digitalkingdom.org with esmtp (Exim 4.87) (envelope-from ) id 1cPY0Q-0003UG-FQ for lojban@lojban.org; Fri, 06 Jan 2017 09:08:46 -0800 Date: Fri, 06 Jan 2017 10:33:21 -0700 Message-ID: <5c2c7e55fbfda4353ca10c7b6e541eeedrl1404531.20252324rllojban@lojban.org7cs> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: We had the best-sex ever after his buldge grew-harder then ever To: Content-Type: text/html; charset=us-ascii Mime-Version: 1 From: "Barbara Steele" X-Spam-Score: -0.4 (/) X-Spam_score: -0.4 X-Spam_score_int: -3 X-Spam_bar: / forget the past experiences

Have Better-Sex

We did it for over 3 hours last night

My husband never really wanted to do it, he couldnt stay hard, and jsut wasnt into it.

He took this pill-last night and I can honestly say we had the best sex-ever

We went at it for hours and he stayed harder and was longer then usual

Here is what he took



Bob and I finished work early and headed down to the tube, jumping on a Northern line train to Euston then switching on to the Victoria line to Victoria Station. As we weaved our way through the tunnels, Bob walked ahead of me on his lead part of the way. He knew where we were heading. We were meeting my father, something Id begun to do more regularly in recent months. Relations between us had been pretty fraught in the past. When my parents had separated, my mother had custody and taken me to live on the other side of the world, in Australia, so hed barely known me when I was grog up as a little . By the time Id come to London as a teenager, I was a real handful. Within a year of getting here, I had disappeared off the face of the earth and started sleeping rough. When Id resurfaced, hed tried to help me get back on track, but, to be honest, I had been almost beyond salvation. Wed become a bit closer when Id started cleaning up my act a little and had got into the habit of meeting for a few drinks at a pub at Victoria Station. The staff there were pretty friendly and would let me slip Bob in provided I kept him hidden from the other punters. Id learned to keep him under a table where he was happy snoozing. It was a cheap and cheerful place and wed usually have a meal as well. It was always my dads treat. Well, I was never going to have the money to treat him, was I? As usual, he was waiting there for me. So whats your news? Not a lot, I said. Im getting cheesed off with selling The Big Issue. Its too dangerous. And London is full of people who dont give a sh*t about you. I then told him the story about Boris Johnson. He gave me a sympathetic look but his reply was predictable. You need to get yourself cleaned up and you need to get yourself a proper job, Jamie, he said. (He was the only person who called me that.) I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. Thats easier said than done, Dad, I said. My dad had always been a grafter, a hard worker. He was blue collar to the core. Hed graduated from being an antique dealer to having a washing machine and domestic appliance repair service to a mobility vehicle business. Hed always been his own boss. I dont think he quite grasped why I hadnt been able to do the same thing. To his credit, he had never washed his hands of me. Hed tried to help. At one point I had been keen on getting into music production and hed wanted to give me a helping hand to get on a course but it hadnt panned out. The thought was there but the motion behind it wasnt. He had remarried since splitting with my mum and had two n, my half siblings Caroline and Anthony, to look after. It got complicated. Id never really considered working for his business and hed never really offered. Quite rightly, he felt that business and family didnt mix. Besides, deep down he knew that I wasnt reliable or presentable enough to interact with the public. What about training in computing or something like that. There are loads of courses around, he said. This was true enough but I didnt have the qualifications to get on most courses. That was partly my own fault. A few years back Id had a mentor, a great guy called Nick Ransom who worked for a charity called Family Mosaic. He had been a really good friend. Hed either come to my flat or Id go into his office in Dalston where hed help me with everything from paying the bills to applying for jobs. He had tried to get me involved in a variety of courses, from bike building to computing. But the struggle to kick my addiction had been all consuming and Id never knuckled down to it. Busking had always been an easier option for me and when Nick moved on to pastures new the chance slipped through my fingers. It wasnt the first opportunity Id messed up, nor would it be the last. My dad said hed ask around to see if there was anything going. But things are pretty rough everywhere at the moment, he said, holding up a copy of the evening paper. Every time I look at the paper its all doom and gloom. Jobs going everywhere. I wasnt that disconnected from reality. I knew there were millions of people in the same situation as me, every single one of them with better qualifications. I was so far down the pecking order in the jobs market I felt that it wasnt even worth applying for jobs. My dad wasnt a man to bare his emotions with me. I knew he was frustrated by the way I lived my life. Deep down I knew he felt I wasnt trying. I understood why he felt that way, but the truth was that I was trying. Just in my own way. To lighten things up a little we talked a little bit about his family. I wasnt particularly close to Anthony and Caroline; we met very infrequently. He asked me what I was doing for Christmas Id spent a couple of Christmases with him but it hadnt really been a barrel of laughs for either of us. Im just going to spend it with Bob, I said. We enjoy being together. My dad didnt really get my relationship with Bob. Tonight, as usual, he stroked him occasionally and kept an eye on him when I popped to the toilet. He even got the waitress to bring him a saucer of milk and gave him a couple of snacks. But he wasnt a natural cat lover. And on the one or two occasions when I had talked about how much Bob helped me in sorting myself out he just looked baffled. I suppose I couldnt blame him for that. As usual, my Dad asked after my health which I always took to be code for are you still off the drugs? Im doing all right, I said. I saw a guy drop dead from an overdose on the landing of my flats a while back. That freaked me out quite a lot.
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