Should There be Doctors for Orgasms & other Questions About Sex

If a person hires an escort (prostitute) should they get their money back if they don’t orgasm?

If they cheat and the sex is bad, should they feel cheated?

If their partner gets off watching them do it, should they be blamed for doing it?

Should there be doctors and clinics that treat ailments with orgasms?

Should politicians have to have at least one debate in the nude?

If someone is working on their roof and watching a neighbor sunbath – out in the open but in their own backyard, who’s fault is it?

If you slept with them first, is it really cheating if you hookup with them again, or is it the the person their with now who cheated you?

If you’ve already done it once, is it twice as bad or no worse to do it again?

Would you choose tell your partner about all of your past sexual experiences with others if you could know everything about your partner’s past encounters?

Are you more likely to not tell your partner because it was too good or because you were too bad?

 

 

 

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My Family Vegas Trip As an Old Fuck – Don’t Knock it Until You Read This

Money – Politics – Sex – Death – Tragedy – Gossip – Did I Say Anal? – Infidelity – Something Crazy – Something New – Stupid Hot Stuff – Just stupid stuff – Sex – Naughty sex – Humanity

For those of us who grew up in the US, we’ve probably done Vegas as a young adult; if you have, you know the story: we think we know what we’re doing gambling, and lose our shirt learning we don’t know shit. We could have recognized that those who do know what they’re doing, often lose their shirts. But, with me anyway, I learn by doing. (and by doing I mean losing).

The upside, when we’re young in Vegas, we go to clubs, look good, are energized all night long, and most likely hookup. That’s Vegas for a young adult, and it doesn’t suck.

So, I’m way past twenty, and just returned from Vegas, to report this week’s version of an older person’s “Vegas.”

I’ve been in Vegas since Saturday, left yesterday and returned home atoday. I was in Vegas to meet up with my parents, a few sisters, a few cousins, an Aunt, and few high rollers from the UK – gambling friends of the aunt’s. Not exactly a bachelor party is sort of what I’m saying. Not to say my family can’t be fun.

I’ll save discussion of family dynamics for my “health, fitness and prayer for the modern family” blog; on here, we’ll get right to the more human aspects.

Having spent enough time in Vegas in my late teens and twenties, I can compare and contrast on a few things; then,, I suppose, I’ll just tell you the stuff that happened; perhaps not as crazy as some times when I was 22, but this account might give you pause if you were thinking Vegas doesn’t get crazy for those of us over thirty.

I’m still trying to figure out if my readers appreciate reading the raw stories about my life – like this – or prefer the more philosophical, or better articulated at least, postings. For those in the latter, you might appreciate my next post after these – and may find this discussion too crass or degenerate for your taste. But, for any interested, this is the raw honest scoop/dirt on my middle-aged, family vacation to Vegas.


My family Vegas Trip As an Old Fucker

anyone interested in hearing this? Anyway, let me know while I write it.

 

 

 

That’s right drool

That’s right That’s right
I think you’re drooling
Remembering how you lied?
Said I made a move on you?

I’ve come twice and oozing
Out your sides, over your ass.
You said I’m a stupid man
With family money, probably tiny.

Now you can’t even look pretty,
Dangling taken, rag doll bacon.
Come too much, why frozen limp?
Cock’s makin’ honest bitches.