Bumps On Stomach Where Pants Rub

'Gi' sei? / dell'esistenza del Punto G

.

Finocchi
I vegetali
Interno sera, a tavola.
Zampe sulla sedia di fronte.
Crunc, crunc, crunc
Una mano santa per l'acidità di stomaco.
TV - Sky - Fox Life - Lipstick Jungle
Puntatone in cui Nico si fa il botox al punto G, per amplificarne le sensazioni.
L'infermiera nel prendere l'appuntamento le dice una cosa tipo: sa dov'è?
E lei, ligia, dà l'indirizzo dello studio, e l'infermiera:
no, il punto G, il dottore apprezza le pazienti che arrivano preparate.



Here, also had money to invest in this thing ...
Well, I would not go to the doctor prepared.
I have not the faintest idea where my G-spot
do not even know if I have indeed the G.

experience it appears to me to be the clitoris.
Pare.
And on that are prepared.
mean, I see the clitoris.
E 'there.

Hey! How are you doing over there?
Omission.


But I would be a bit 'method, so.
define.
G Spot
Leggetevela, a brothel. A lot of conditionals. Many assumptions.
Apparently, sarebbe, situerebbe
Insomma aria fritta.

Con le figure

il Punto G corrisponderebbe al 4.
Se fosse veramente lì, qualcuno ci avrebbe ben sbattuto contro nel corso della mia, sebben non fittissima, ma degna vita sessuale.

E questo non mi pare, cioè nel senso che ovviamente ho avuto l'onore di raggiungere il culmine del piacere, ma sembrava un culminare clitorideo unito a una serie di sensazioni, anche potenti, derivanti da strusciamenti, presenza dell'altra persona, sentimenti, guardarsi negli occhi etc.

Detto papale papale, isolando la sensazione dell'orgasmo, direi che corrispondeva a quella del self-sex, che dalle mie parti è sempre clitoral.

And then, being an assiduous user of tampax, if that point is so sensitive and full of nerve endings ... words by mistake with Paturnie hormonal, etc. I had in 15-odd years of tampax fight against them for wrong?
Again: no.

then, if it exists, and is positioned to the figure 4 above, perhaps the botox makes sense.
If it works as for the lips (I speak of the mouth) and me and the swelling enlarges and displays ... Then 'run across' and urge should be physiologically easier.

mmmm.

Well, another quagmire (gineceo. ginepraceo ..? Ginepreo?), G-spot does not mean vaginal orgasm.
The vaginal orgasm is given by a set of stimuli of different parts of our lower abdomen. However

go here paragraph 'female orgasm'.
distinction is made between clitoral and vaginal.
Another question: but you women in the course of intercourse, there happen to one or the other, could you classify it?
And you men, can you distinguish the two different reactions in your ladies?

vibrators seem to know more than me.
There are those that stimulate the G spot is the clitoris.
rabbits, they say, the only kind of welcome from the women

but ... if I do not know where my G spot, how can he know Roger Rabbit, che manco mi chiamo Jessica???

E qui, se qualcuna di voi l'ha provato o, uomini!, se lo avete scovato o condiviso con le vostre morose sarei proprio interessata a sapere se ha un suo perché.

Quando l'SrL (che sapeva dove erano un sacco di cose, onore al merito) mi ha mollata, una mia amica per Natale mi ha regalato un delfino di Angèlique Dévil.
Qui  infinite variazioni sul tema.

Comunque, la domanda iniziale era: esiste il Punto G?
Qualcuno ha prove inequivocabili?
Che in mezzo al tunnel ci sia questa benedetta centralina elettrica?
Perché se si, io lo voglio sapere.
Grazie

Main Idea Of Night Calls By Lisa Fugard

Tutto su Mia Madre

La verità è che sono una merda.
Ebbene si.
Questo week end ho fatto una scoperta.
Avevo già dei sospetti, ma era una di quelle vocine del mio cervello che non volevo ascoltare.
Però è anche inutile menare il can per l'aia, o il gatto per il soggiorno nel mio caso...
e ogni tanto la realizzazione di un pensiero compiuto, è cosa buona e giusta e oltremodo rara...
almeno per quel che mi riguarda...


Ieri a pranzo ho realizzato che, inequivocabilmente, mia Madre mi sta sulle palle.
Ma non sulle palle da rottura del momento perché si ostina in modo petulante a controllare la prole che da mo' left the nest ...
No no ..
I dislike as a person lies.
Not entirely, but more than many others.
That is, perhaps, if it were my mother ... not frequent ...
But I will not be an ungrateful piece of shit?

Maybe she was right in the maternity ward to pretend that I was not his daughter ...

Yesterday expect for lunch.
had to get to 13.30.
The day before I prepared the outline (as my grandmother used to say)
Without bread with bacon and chives.
I missed the main course.
And the wine.
I called around 11.30 to tell me that is going to go to mass. At the same time I go out
and I go grocery shopping I tend
hands towards the shelves, hoping that I speak and give me that you fill the pot.
up, Oh Manduca pregnant, talk to my Cricket Bipolar
Decided: meatloaf.
mince, eggs, garlic, parsley ...
and we are an hour out of a problem.
Vago, enjoying the empty super.
pocket of my down decides to ruin the moment: driiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnn
But who the hell breaks to 12 on Sunday??
My mother. Obvious.
're in the Super??
SGRUNT
Arrival time!!
CHECULO

Here it is.
While they are in cash.
order:

• critical choices of the product (brand, state of ripeness, color, odor, quantity, price)
• the criticism available on tape (as they had put in the basket?)
• criticized the provision in the sport ( I try to cancel planting them in the hands of the eggs hatched and TSI 4 SHELLS!)
• critical where I left the umbrella (my gonads, hut let go ')
• insolent way home I think the potholes and puddles of rain, I do not know ...

arrive home.

and when you eat??

When you get to the 13:30 ???!!! Oh no! Ops that stupid I am! Already here ... -.-

Preparing to massage the chop, to chop garlic and parsley, add black pepper, salt, drops of Worchester, grain, eggs, breadcrumbs etc..

I have the kitchen of the 7 dwarfs, so I organize the work millimeter.

'ZZO's hand is sticking out from behind me and I move the eggs?

here is more functional!

For whom? What's downstairs??

aMicioooooooo come on, take it! Ankle. assfidanken!

He looks puzzled.

not attacks ... useless ball of fur.

and put it in the oven

And no, the first golden in a pan and blended with the white wine

And then after you make the first cut it into slices

And no I is too dry

and and, and, and,

You know a razor blade on a nerve?

Yeah, that.

My Mother is hateful.

At least to me.

And now?

These things do not say it?

am a bad daughter??

But I swear it's always a good soul.

But it can, I would avoid the ...

In addition we are also quite similar, they are a pain in the ass on which the moss does not grow well I never ...

So?

I'm nasty?

And perhaps a bit 'is ...

But stars is less unpleasant for himself politically incorrect to say is my mother, but keep me in fact ... I would see an apple in your mouth it to him good. At least one is silent.

Affection and visceral intolerance of character can coexist?
The good, the ancestral link ... not blunt this kind of bumps? Being
blood of his blood and flesh of his flesh, not would make me immune to this reaction?
It 's true then that in life anyway you choose?
E 'Captain' is not chosen?

are bad?
I said things that you say it? (I already asked, but I'm worried ...)
And if you ever had a son, and the same nasty?
ouch ...