Sex For All Guy

Teen Fucks Old Guy

2010-03-01T14:00:00.000-08:00

Teen fucks guy old enough to be her grandad, the girl rides the old guy until he shoots his loads in her tight fanny.

Teen gets cum on her face

2010-03-01T13:42:00.000-08:00

Sexy teen gets more than she bargained for a bukkake party. She gets covered all over her face with hot sticky goo, her face is a picture has she has cum in every orofice.

Tiny teen girl takes cock

2010-02-04T13:35:00.000-08:00

It’s a fat piece of luck to have this hot lay on a date, and it’s a sure bliss to have her over for a juicy fuck after it! A tight young teen with awesome body was too willing to jump out of her hot panties to go to sleep without having her snatch poked, as well as having a fair portion of manly cream shot deep into her throat instead of the traditional ice cream served at the first date. Watch the tit-bouncing action work itself into one explosive cum-drenched finale as both teen lovers have their sexual tension lifted!

Tight teen goes nudist

2010-02-02T13:30:00.000-08:00

Do young female models get all of your juices going? Then be prepared to poke a hole in your knickers, as an adorable Russian model Natascha is sure to be one of the hottest nudist teens you have ever seen! Fresh and lovely, this cute prankster loves to show off her pussy while sunbathing outdoors. Man, I wish I was there to take care of this soft teen pussy that seems to be oozing desire! The badass young girl will show her fuck holes and her firm tits in every aspect – be prepared to be blown out of the waters!

How to Perform Better Oral Sex and Give Women Wild Screaming Orgasms (She'll Love These Moves!)

2010-01-28T13:38:00.000-08:00

You know that you are frustrating her with boring bed rituals. Now, you can give her the hottest and steamiest sex she will ever experience. Offer her a chance for increased sexual release and let her beg for more sex. Yes, women can get disinterested even during the most private moments with their partners.

It's time to make a move and add a new flavor to these intimate explorations - give her oral sex! What kind of woman would not want to perspire during a steamy lovemaking? Yes, you read it right. You can have your woman writhe in pure orgasmic pleasure with oral sex.

You can give the most thrilling cunnilingus she will ever experience by putting a small amount of a female orgasm enhancing cream (such as V-cream) on her clitoris prior to the sexual act. She will surely have heightened sensations with every stroke and touch that you give to this small organ. Such creams act immediately upon application, making her primed for an exhilarating time in bed.

Knowing the magic of creative oral sex

Upon application, you can proceed to give your woman a pleasurable experience. Start off by giving her inner thighs tender and light touches using your lips. Move upwards to her vagina and allow your tongue to gently stroke the external area using an up-and-down motion for few moments.

Be playful! Stop the movements of your tongue along the external edges of her vagina and let her beg for more of what you are already doing. Place gentle kisses and soft caresses using your tongue, and make your teeth chew gently on her skin until you reach her abdomen. Go back down after paying much of your attention on the sensitive parts on her upper torso. She will surely demand that you get to the real business and that is what you will do!

Women usually reach a sexual climax due to clitoral stimulation so you should pay close attention to that mound of flesh. Imagine that you can only pleasure her through those gentle strokes that your tongue can make. Visualize yourself eating ice cream because this is how your tongue and lips should move. Don't we just love eating ice cream?

Allow yourself to experience the same or greater level of pleasure as what your partner feels through the following methods:

* Perform tender strokes using your tongue.
* Allow her to place her external genitalia on your face.
* While your mouth is busy on her clitoris, you can try penetrating her vagina with your two fingers.
* You may also raise her buttocks off the bed or floor and allow her lower limbs to encircle your neck. This may take some effort from you.
* Trace the letters of the alphabet along the borders of her vagina with the gentle movement of your tongue.
* Lastly, the circular motion around her clitoris will surely do the magic trick!

That's it. Try these proven oral sex moves and give her the kind of wild screaming orgasms that she will never forget!

Here's a bonus tip: Being able to last longer during sex increases your odds to bring any woman to a thigh-quivering orgasm. If you are ready to SUPERCHARGE your sexual stamina and confidence, this is a proven step-by-step system that helped me last 37 minutes longer in bed:

3 Fresh Tips on Using Sex Positions That Allow Any Man to Last Longer During Sex!

2010-01-02T13:15:00.000-08:00

Many men find themselves finishing earlier then they would like during sex. As a matter of fact, there is a large percentage of men who actually suffer from premature ejaculation. Even if you don't have premature ejaculation, in terms of medical standards, if you either finish before there will woman doesn't or finish before you like you may want to take some positions that will actually help you last longer.

There are 3 positions that you can use that help most men last longer:

1. Missionary - the good thing about missionary position is that you have control over the movements. That means, when you feel yourself getting too aroused you can simply a thrusting or even take a quick break from movement. You can use a process of edging, which basically allows you to start and stop in between penetration so that you are able to last as long as you possibly can.

2. Cowgirl - or for some men this may not apply, but the majority of men find that cowgirl position is a position in which they can last longer for a couple reasons. First, they can relax and breathe slowly. Also, many women prefer to use a grinding or circular motion versus straight up-and-down penetration, which can allow a man to ride it out longer.

3. Spooning position - this is where the man is laying sideways behind his partner entering from the rear. It is not 100% clear why this type of position allows men to have more control and not orgasm too quickly, but the majority of the men say that if they perform in this position they have a lot of staying power.

Getting a Tighter Vagina Will Send Your Sex Life Through the Roof

2010-01-01T13:07:00.000-08:00

Getting a tighter vagina is really easy, is all that is required is the willingness to put in about twenty minutes or so a day to exercise the pelvic floor muscles also called PC muscles, also known as kegel exercises. Anyone can do them, there are no expensive weights or tools needed and after 2 or 3 weeks you will have not only a tighter vagina but a stronger one too.

Having super strong kegel muscles can take your sex life straight through the roof, as for one it increases the chance of multiple orgasms and the pleasure you can give to a man by clenching it tight around his penis is amazing, take a look at his face when you do it and you will see what i mean. The kegel exercises can also improve self confidence by making you feel younger on the inside.

Another advantage of having a tighter vagina is that it helps women through labour as when they push out their new born baby the muscles are strong and don't get damaged. Then after childbirth the kegel muscles are strong enough to stop urine leaks, which many women get after having a baby.

Also after the menopause the the muscles in the vagina go very weak and can feel loose, so it is well worth starting your kegel exercises as soon as possible to prevent this. Imagine going through the menopause and coming through it still feeling young and still having a tight vagina.

There are lots of books available that will give you a full training course and give you a tighter vagina in next to no time.

hot babe in her sexy tank top

2009-07-07T12:49:00.000-07:00

sexy teen getting almost naked

2009-06-27T12:48:00.000-07:00

hot babe showing off her bare bum

2009-06-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

Naughty paige showing off her ass

2009-05-02T12:46:00.000-07:00

teen dressed like a naughty scholl girl

2009-04-27T12:45:00.000-07:00

teen babe in cite little undies

2009-03-07T12:53:00.000-08:00

sexy paige showing her wet camel toe

2009-02-27T12:54:00.000-08:00

nipples poking through a wet tank top

2009-02-27T12:38:00.000-08:00

sexy brunette sitting in a pool

2009-01-01T12:52:00.000-08:00

My Big Fat Famous Cuban Ass

2008-04-27T12:37:00.000-07:00

Why is everyone obsessed with my ass?

This year I put on weight after going on birth control to please my ex, Mr. Huge. BIG MISTAKE, and I mean BIG. I got depressed and fat, but fortunately enlightened to the fact that when women fall in love, we also fall stupid. I'll never do anything again to please a man who doesn't respect my body!

But I digress .... now I'm working with a personal trainer -- and I mean work -- he's busting my ass into marathon shape! So in spite of the fact that I was blessed with a great figure, right now it's concealed in a soft, cuddly layer of blubber. And I already regret the day when in just a few months, the topic of my ass will be "so last year."

You see, I am now wearing size 12 petite jeans and they're still a little snug. My mother wants me to buy bigger jeans and I don't know about you, but buying the perfect pair of jeans, regardless of your size, is like getting a master's degree in personal humiliation. It takes weeks of research! And I wonder, what's the big fucking deal? So what if my ass is big now? Who really gives a rat's ass? It's as if my entire person, mind and soul included, is overshadowed by this monstrosity that clings to my backside, like a tumor. I'm not supposed to wear these fat jeans because apparently, God forbid, you can see that I'm fat and I have to hide the fact from the world, like David Copperfield making the Empire State Building disappear in a little black dress.

Horror of horrors! The repercussions of this are tragic! BOTTOM LINE: in my current state, you can bet your ass no man will even look at me! No man will ask me out on a date! No man will ever marry me or want to be the father of my children! In short, I'll never be someone's piece of ass!

And if all they see when they look at me is that Mount Everest of a rump, how will they even notice my shimmering blue eyes? My ability to saunter in stilleto heels? My big boobs? Yes, how come no one complains about the size of my boobs? For heaven's sake, isn't the possession of tits and ass a valued commodity?

The only people who pester me about my ass are the people who care about me the most. Someone's always trying to chew my ass about my jeans. "What did Maria wear? Is she making an ass out of herself in those jeans?" My ass is blemish on my otherwise impeccably perfect self; the Scarlet letter ASS I must wear because of the heinous crime of being well-endowed in the rear; oh the shame I cause to my family, all of whom have perfect supermodel bodies, of course!; so I'm not the black sheep, but the morally reprehensible black ASS of the family; oh woe is me, all I'll ever amount to is an apprentice to Kirstie Alley!

(And let's not even get into arms. Yes, arms. I've got enviable arms. And my mother, whose triceps have been long neglected, thinks that I have to cover arms and ass in black in order to be presentable.)

Here's what the people who don't care about me the most have to say about my ass:

1. My gay friend, Mr. Gerald Kosher, thinks I look adorable. And I do. He says, if a man doesn't haul ass to love and adore you as you deserve, he's not worth it.

2. My personal trainer, Mr. Tough Nuts, continually tells me I've got a great figure and athletic body with much grace and flexibility. He continually praises me on my form. Today, he patted me on the back and said "you're solid." (And no, he's not just saying that because I'm paying up the ass for personal training.)

3. The other day at the gym, I went to the restroom and when I came back out I went to the cardio room to get my ass in gear on the treadmill. The woman on the bike and I started gossiping. She confessed that "girls will be girls," and that my ass had been the subject of conversation between her, another client and my trainer. She said that they -- these two skinny, tall gals -- admired the "firmness, height and lift" of my ass!

This is me, my ass and I. Love it or leave it. You know the phrase, "as long ass you're happy." Well, I am happy in my kick-ass body. So BUTT OUT!

Reverse psychology has been a great boost to my ass-esteem. People who care about me who mean well: you're a pain in the ass. All of the assenine comments I've heard lately about not showing my elephantine back side to the world actually make me want to wear those jeans in proud defiance!

Oh, the nerve!

2008-03-27T12:35:00.000-07:00

sex and the beach: a formerly single woman's guide to chronic living, written by someone worth reading featuring manola blablablanik, dr. annie steelclit, professor chancleta and more!
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Oh, the nerve!
Suddenly I’ve become a shaky lady. Well, that’s better than being shady, for sure!

Two days ago, I paid a visit to a neurologist at Mount Sinai Hospital because I suspect I have thoracic outlet syndrome. No, that’s not one of discount malls on the outskirts of town! I’ve been a computer jockey for so long that my ulnar nerve, which runs down from the spine to the pinky and ring finger, is most likely compressed. So my pinky finger shakes, gets numb, tingly and hot. (If you want to feel your ulnar nerve, strike your funny bone.)

But I digress … I had to wait three hours to see the doctor. Is anyone else annoyed by the fact that a 2:30 appointment means 5:30? This is billable time! Can I send the doctor an invoice? Due upon receipt?

So you arrive, write a Russian novel about your medical history until your hand starts to cramp and then realize your handwriting is just as bad as the doctor’s penmanship, straight from the school of illegible chicken scratch. At that point you answer questions like “have you been treated for this before?” with “no, that’s why I’m here, you dumb ass!” Then you sit your dumb ass down and wait. Yes, wait. That’s why it’s called a waiting room and why you are patient.

Two and half-hours into my appointment, the receptionist ushers me into a second waiting room, where I tested my vision with the chart and fumbled around with plastic skeleton parts. Not knowing what to do next, I sat down on the edge of a chair, put my hands in meditation position and started to perform yogic breathing. And that’s when the shtick started, because it took me a few minutes to realize that the doctor was standing right in front of me watching me with a somewhat puzzled smirk on his face!

The doctor – let’s call him Zhivago -- led me into his office and shook my hand to meet me officially. He then looked at my Russian novel and commented that I had written more than any patient he had ever treated. Zhivago was very impressed with the fact that I knew big words like THORACIC OUTLET SYNDROME, CUBITAL TUNNEL and ULNAR NERVE ENTRAPMENT. “You’re very smart,” he commented right there under the very unflattering fluorescent lights. (How come that sort of compliment never happens under better lighting when you meet a guy at a bar?)

Our chitchat diverted into my personal life, because you know, a good patient tells a doctor EVERYTHING. Shaky pinky digressed into a marathon kvetch: “How am I? You want to know how I am? I'll tell you how I am! What with my weight gain, my travesty of a relationship with my ex-boyfriend, how I sank into depression, had succumbed to anxiety attacks and agoraphobia, how of all the damn psychotherapists on Miami Beach, the one I chose for treatment lived and worked in the same building as my ex-boyfriend, come on, what are the odds? ... " (Why you can only pour your heart out to a compassionate professional after shelling out some bucks, God only knows.) At that point, I didn’t know if I was at a neurologist or a shrink. And then I had to wonder, when you are nervous wreck, who better to cure you than a specialist on nerves?

But Zhivago was very compassionate. “Don't worry, M, everyone’s depressed about something at some point in their lives.” And this was followed by the final obligatory evaluation question: “Are you nuts?”

Pregnant pause. “Nutty, yes, nuts, no.”

Then Zhivago led me by the hand to the examination table like a gentleman, as if he were pulling out the chair for me at a restaurant and saying, "ladies first." Nice touch, doctor!

I’d learn more about this doctor’s nice touch in the ensuing minutes. I had no idea that an initial neurological exam involved feeling up the patient! Not in an OB/GYN sort of way, mind you, which is very clinical and boring – this was far more interesting: fully clothed foreplay!

The first thing he did was to take my hands and put them on my lap. He noticed the shaky pinky. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “I’m very easy to get along with.” (Yeah right ... famous first words!) Then, after asking me to grab his hands really hard to test my strength, he proceeded to gyrate my wrists and elbows. I looked out the window because he was standing rather close to me. Then he said, “I like to close my eyes so I can feel every sensation.” And I’m glad his eyes were closed because I couldn’t keep a straight face.

Then he asked me to close my eyes and he gently caressed my face and squeezed my ear lobes.

Zhivago: “Can you feel this?”

Interior Monologue: Well, of course I can feel it, you idiot! And it feels amazingly good!

Then the exam went from vanilla to kinky in two seconds flat. He took a pin and started to gently prick me over every bit of exposed skin.

Zhivago: “Can you feel this?”

Interior Monologue: Ooooh, that’s kind of nice …

And like every good Russian novel, this medical exam had a beginning, middle, and climactic end. After tapping my knee with a rubber implement to check for reflexes, he brought out some metal instruments, my favorite being a vibrating rod used for the medical equivalent of an activity that would be appreciated by anyone with a foot fetish.

Zhivago: “Take off your shoes, please. I’m going to test sensation on the soles of your feet.”

No interior monologue this time. I just let it all out, with a very giggly, high-pitched “ooooh, that tickles!”

Ah, yes, so sad is the condition of being chronically single, that a visit to the neurologist gives you cheap thrills.

So will this Lara see her Doctor Zhivago again? Oh yes indeed! He gave me plenty of opportunities for additional poking and prodding: Thyroid, just in case the old gland went the way of the tortoise instead of the hare. MRI, just in case a tumor made its way into my brain like a meatball in the old noodle. Oh, and a nerve conduction test: that’s when they attach sensors to your body, sort of like an electric chair that doesn’t kill you.

I can only imagine what the second visit will be like! Who wants to be a nervous wreck when you can have nervous bliss?

Wax and Pap

2008-02-27T11:36:00.000-08:00

Seven months after breaking up with her boyfriend, with whom she had faithfully spent most of her mid-twenties, my dear friend Boobette had already sowed her wild oats. I lived vicariously through my younger alter-ego, also a writer. Ten years her senior and a veteran of South Beach, I listened attentively to mini-me. "I'm such a ho," she told me one day with a pang of bewilderment. "I slept with more men in the past seven months than I have in my entire life!" And that's when it all started, because I immediately blurted out, "well, that's because you live in HoBe!"

South Beach is a flat-ass barrier island with some very pretentious pretentions. No other city in the world has a diet named after it. The REAL South Beach Diet consists of half-priced cosmos at Balans, served in those cute glass tumblers. Balans is the only joint with two happy hour sessions. The traditional afternoon cocktails (seriously, who's happy at 5 PM?) and then 10 PM to 12 AM, which is that lovely liminal time when every pumpkin turns into a princess!

But I digress, like SoHo in New York City, South Beach has claimed the coolness of being abbreviated, because God forbid you should expend the minimal amount of linguistic energy it takes to complete the two-syllable name South Beach. The "th" and "ch" are the equivalent of bench pressing an elephant with your tongue, let me tell you! How do people living in multi-syllabic countries manage? Switzerland. Lichtenstein. Madagascar. Republic of Mickey Mouse.

In the tropics it takes a lot of energy to pronounce multi-syllabic words. It's just not that easy to multi-task. Try saying South Beach in a complete sentence while lifting a piña colada to your lips and rubbing coconut oil on a freshly depilated ass!

(By the way, for those plucked chickens out there, isn't it creepy to have your privates waxed by beauty school dropout? Wouldn't it be easier to combine a pap and wax appointment? A drive-through pap 'n wax would be so convenient!)

The nonsense is endless. For example, south of 5th street is a neighborhood now dubbed SoFi. At the 3rd street Starbucks you can WiFi at SoFi. Well, if I was a developer, I'd create residences south of 5th called SoFu, short for So Fucking What? But I live near 41st street, which puts me right smack in MidBe, and since the area is populated by orthodox jews and catholics, the phrase OY CHRIST! is not uncommon. Don't get me wrong. I adore my JewBe. So much better than SoGo, as my landlord put it -- two miles south of us -- it's Soddom and Gomorrah! North of the 41st parellel is NoBe, which is really ChéBe, where the only language spoken is Argentinian and all the men are gorgeous long-haired soccer players named Alejandro.

(I'm serious. When my friend Lorelei was not yet a mommy, back in the day when we earned our mettle as HoBe veterans, we took a scientific survey. Every long-haired specimen with tight quads and gluts was named Alejandro. No joke! We'd drive by an SUV (of course) and I'd open the window and ask, "is your name Alejandro?" And the tower of testosterone behind the wheel would say, "how did you know?")