The way to a woman’s heart might best be reached via a short cut.
If you are aware of the kind of hunger, regrets and frustrations that follows rumpy pumpy, you would stir clear from hanky panky.
We ought to punish pitilessly that shameful pretence of friendly intercourse. I like a man to be a man, and to show on all occasions the bottom of his heart in his discourse. Let that be the thing to speak, and never let our feelings be beneath vain compliments
Sex doesn’t satisfy for a lifetime, the more you have it, the more you want it. And the more you have it, the more you die out.
Once you are defiled, you can’t get back your purity by any means, instead, you will only look for ways to be defiled over and over again.
There is a correlation between the number of days since a man last had sex, and, the number of women that he is convinced he is in love with.
Whether you studied sexology or not, nobody will teach you how to screw, nobody will point to your vagina and say, hey that’s where you pee and bonk! And nobody will say, hey, your penis can ejaculate when you stroke or slide it into a woman’s punani!
Nevertheless man has found love, which is not a bad reply to that sly Deity, and he has adorned it with so much poetry that woman often forgets the sensual part of it. Those among us who are unable to deceive themselves have invented vice and refined debauchery, which is another way of laughing at God and paying homage, immodest homage, to beauty.