"If you try to please everybody, somebody's not going to like it."
"I can’t tell you if the use of force will last five days, five weeks, five months, but it won't last longer than that."
It is no surprise that it took him so long to discover the one thing he can no longer live without-the Bounty paper towel. "What I love is that it does what it's supposed to,” he said, "it absorbs and it's strong, and it doesn't fall apart." When I go anywhere, I take a big wad of Bounty in my suitcase. Sometimes Helen gets annoyed when the sink is full of Bounty that l still want to use. She likes to keep it down to one clump. For one who embraces the line art of making mistakes, Bounty is a godsend. You feel alone when you don't have it. You feel a little vulnerable."
How should semen be kept on its way to the laboratory? It should be kept cool, below body temperature. After all, nature put the testicles outside the human body to ensure that the sperm is not overheated. Don't forget to stopper the tube, put the container into a paper bag, and carry it in your hand. Don't carry the specimen under your arm, and keep it from the car radiator.
Coralee's incoherent moans drove his tongue and lips faster and faster as George sucked away at her steaming, hungry pussy. He wanted her begging for it, crying and screaming to be fucked when he was ready to ram his big prick into her, and she was more than ready now. He knew she was capable of many climaxes, and he knew she'd cum again and again with his fuck stick in her flooding twat. His tongue continued its maddening licking of the throbbing red and erect bud of her pussy.
Before removing the sponge, wash your hands. Reach up into the vagina with a finger and find the removal loop. If you can't reach the loop, take a deep breath and bear down with your abdominal muscles to press your cervix closer to the vaginal opening so you can get a better grasp of the loop. Hook your finger into the loop and slowly and gently pull the sponge down. If your vagina seems to be holding it tightly, stop, relax, and wait a moment or two before trying again. If the sponge still doesn't move, tighten your vaginal muscles as hard as you can while taking a deep breath. Keep the muscles clenched and hold your breath while you count to 10. Then slowly relax and breathe out. Repeat this once or twice. Then, as you breathe out and feel relaxed, bear down. Continue to relax your body as you reach in and remove the sponge. This technique works right away for some women, for others it takes practice.
After you've removed the sponge, check to see whether it was torn during the removal process, particularly if it didn't come out easily. If it's torn or a piece is missing, use a finger to feel all around your vagina, particularly up around the cervix, to find the missing piece or pieces. Start near the cervix and sweep around all sides of the vagina, moving your finger gradually down toward the opening, and remove any bit of sponge you may feel. If you can't remove the sponge or its pieces, you may have to have them removed by a doctor.
Forms of Discipline:
1. To remain on her hands and knees.
2. Breaking in new slaves.
3. Decorating the Master with sticky concoctions and feathers.
4. To show the slave that she belongs completely to the Prince she must submit to his every whim.
5. She is tied to a post for display.
6. She must keep her legs wide apart.
7. Their Masters rent them for any purpose from common labor to sex.
8. Must scrub floor with brush in mouth.
9. Discipline other slaves.
10. Forbidden to speak.
11. Must wear mesh shields over genitals, to prevent them from pleasuring themselves.
12. To serve at the Public Pony Stables as common rental ponies.
She put her face on his chest and slowly undid the top button of his shirt.
Mike sighed and began to massage her back in small circles which moved gradually down along her spine. She felt his palm cup her buttocks and continue till it met the curve of her thigh.
"We could live on the beach, Mike," she said, half drowning. "Build a house of driftwood, go surf fishing."
He laughed. "Sure, you'd make the ideal beachcomber.”
But with Mike lying warm underneath her, it didn't sound silly. She let her hand slide to his waist. She could live anywhere, in a garbage truck if necessary, so long as Mike was with her, like this. Her hips eased themselves between his thighs, dragging her tight skirt up past her knees. The sound of water flowing and sliding away gave a rhythm to her own movements.
His hands probed up beneath the sweater, yanked the blouse free and undid the hooks of her brassiere. Then they slid around to the front of her and squeezed her nipples, urging them into shivering points.
The tight skirt restricted any real freedom of her legs, annoying her with an inhibition she did not want. lmpatiently she pulled it way up till it circled her hips. The sudden feel of cold air on her almost naked behind made her shiver in a sudden convulsion. But this did not stop her. She worked impatiently to free herself from the girdle.
Dr. Rubin's test I, usually done three to five days after the end of the menstrual period, is based on the principle that it might be possible to determine whether the Fallopian tubes of a patient were open or closed by passing gas through them. A measured amount of carbon dioxide gas is insufflated into the uterine cavity. If the tubes are open, the gas will travel through the uterus and the tubes and escape into the pelvic cavity. If the tubes are blocked, the gas has nowhere to go, and only a small amount of carbon dioxide will be admitted into the small uterine cavity. The Rubin Test provides information about the tubes only. The hysterosalpingogram supplies information about the uterus and the tubes; while culdoscopic or laparoscopic examination provides information about the tubes, the uterus, the ovaries, and, indeed the entire peritoneal cavity. Hydrotubation, during which liquid is forced through the tubes, also indicates whether or not the oviducts are open.
What, then, is infidelity? The definition often varies from person to person, but men generally consider infidelity to mean "an affair," that is, a relationship that is more than "just sex," while women generally conceive of infidelity as any kind of extramarital sexual contact, no matter how fleeting. "No one is immune from impure thoughts," says an exceptionally attractive Hollywood actor of 35 who has been married for seven years. "The real question is whether you act on them. Ask yourself: What is the risk, what are the consequences? I, for one, know that I'm not going to mess up my marriage for, excuse my language, a piece of ass, no matter how tempting it is. "You are responsible for your actions, but you are not responsible for your feelings," affirms a behavioral therapist. "Look, but don't touch," is the way another woman who values her marriage states the case for fidelity.
She came out at a hunched-over half gallop and while scrambling into the car she gave her knee such a hell of a whack on the edge of the door that she spent the first three blocks all scroonched down, hogging her knee and moaning. Then from time to time he would stick her head up just far enough to see where we were and give me directions. She had an apartment in a little garden apartment development called Ridge Lane. After she insisted I drive around two blocks twice to make certain Rick's red convertible wasn't parked in the area, I drove into her short, narrow drive behind the redwood privacy fence and stopped a few inches behind the rear bumper of her faded blue Volkswagon in the carport. She spelled her last name, Karter, for me, and said she was in the book. But I had the feeling she did not want me to call her. I had performed the required service. She didn't want to trade one entanglement for another. We sat there and suddenly both yawned at once, great luxurious shuddering jaw-creakers. Then laughed at ourselves. She kissed me, got out and gave a squeak of pain when she put her weight on her leg. She bent and rubbed her sore knee, then limped to her door. When she had unlocked and opened it, she smiled and waved. But I sat and yawned and sighed, feeling too pleasantly wearied to make any decisions. The episode, I told myself, had changed nothing. A dead doctor, not matter who he died, had nothing to do with a damaged young wife who seemed to want to die. Nothing new had been added except . . something she had said in the middle of the night after that time that had he unmistakably the most complete one for her. It was one of those fragmented drowsy conversations as we lay in a night tangle of contentment, sheet and blanket shoved down to the foot of the bed, the flesh drying and cooling after the moist of effort. Her deep and slowing breath was humid against the base of my throat. Round knee against my belly, her slow, affectionate fingertips tracing over and over the line of my jaw from earlobe to chin. In down-glance I could see, against the light that lay in a crisp diagonal line across the foot of the bed, a round height of her hip, semiluminous, and a steep descent to the waist where rested, in dark contrast, my large hand with fingers splayed.
"Mmmmm " she said.
"Feeling guilty?" I asked.
"Too soon for that, darling. Feel too delicious for that. Later maybe. But. .. damn it all anyway."
I moved back and forth across the edge of sleep, thinking of that afterglow, trying to explain it to myself.
She stretched, yawned and shifted closer. "I keep wanting to say I love you, darling. Maybe that's for my conscience. Anyway, I like the hell out of you." Same here, I thought.