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Gonorrhea is one of the highly infectious sexually transmitted disease. Gonorrhea is caused by certain from of bacteria called Neisseria gonorrhoeae. Gonorrhea infection thus increases the risk of one being infected by HIV (human immunodeficiency virus, a virus which causes AIDS). When gonorrhea affects men it first infects the epithelium column of the urethra. Gonorrhea is transmitted to the vagina of the women through sexual intercourse, as the cervix in women is considered as the prone site of getting affected by gonorrhea from the male sex organs. Gonorrhea thus only spreads through the process of sexual intercourse. Gonorrhea also has the possibility of being transmitted to the new born child from the infected mother during the time of delivery thus causing the infants to suffer from eye infections. Spread of gonorrhea to the newborn babies is a rare case at present as babies eyes are protected through application of some eye medicines.
“But how does gonorrhea affects or spreads into the women body cells?” is a basic question which needs to be answered. Gonorrhea spreads into the fallopian tubes of the women thus resulting in inflammatory diseases in the pelvic region. But when a woman is sexually abused, it is more likely that the women will suffers infection in the genital tract or the infant will suffer infection in the mouth or the rectum.
Gonorrhea symptoms can be witnessed in both male and female as it is a sexually transmitted disease, though the symptoms may vary between the male and female sexes. In the women the cervix is generally affected with this disease which is very much contagious and it is transmitted to them from the male folk in the process of sexual enjoyment. Women when gets affected by gonorrhea may experience symptoms like abnormal bleeding, vaginal discharges, irritation at the outer area of the vagina and also may experience burning sensation due the process of urination.
In the opposite sex that is in men, gonorrhea affects the urethra. The symptoms of gonorrhea in men may be experienced through pus like release from the penis tip, urinating frequently, bleeding during the process of urination, sting during urination, swelling glands and also sometimes may experience the head of the penis turning red. When gonorrhea affects the throat or the rectum of both men and women symptoms like pain, discharge and swelling may be witnessed. Thus as gonorrhea is a sexually transmitted disease it is very likely that both the sexes of male and female gets affected by it.
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An estimated 10 to 15 million men in the United States suffer from impotence, also known as erectile dysfunction. Some people also use the term impotence to describe other problems such as lack of sexual desire and the inability to ejaculate or have an orgasm. While many people who suffer from impotence suffer in silence, it is a treatable condition at any age. Impotence is sometimes used to describe female sexual dysfunction, which includes the broad categories of reduced sexual desire, pain during sex, inability to become aroused, and inability to have an orgasm.
Male impotence usually has an underlying medical condition that causes nerve or artery damage. Such damage can interfere with the nerve impulses that are needed to start and sustain an erection or with blood flow that is needed to engorge the tissues in the penis to make it erect. Diabetes, surgery, injuries, vascular diseases, kidney disease, and chronic alcoholism are some medical conditions that may cause impotence. Smoking can also cause impotence by narrowing the blood vessels. Since the likelihood of having some of these conditions increases with age, older men are more likely to suffer from impotence. Impotence can also be a side effect of certain drugs such as high blood pressure drugs and antihistamines, or low levels of circulating hormones such as testosterone. As much as 20 percent of all impotence may be attributed to psychological factors such as stress, anxiety, and guilt.
A doctor makes a diagnosis of impotence by carefully examining a patient’s medical history, performing a psychological evaluation, completing a physical examination, and doing some laboratory tests. Depending on what the cause of impotence is in a particular individual, there are a number of treatment options to choose from. These include counseling, drugs, surgery, and vacuum devices. The right treatment depends mostly on the cause and one’s age.
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The age-old question, “Does size matter?” has been debated for eons. Both men and women alike are interested to know what really gives. Men are obsessed with the size of their penis and many have found ways to make their member larger. That’s why the penis enlargement industry is booming offering everything -- from cream, pills, patches, weights, traction devices, and even surgery. The media and the overly-hyped stories of ‘well-endowed’ men have undoubtedly contributed to the already convoluted subject of penis size.
Men with larger organs are regarded to be more manly and better in bed. Thus, “Bigger is better” has become a popular adage. Furthermore, this insight seems to emanate from male vanity rather than the pleasure that your penis can provide. A small penis is equated to diminished masculinity, virility, and at times, also associated to impotency.
But, in fact, most researches have revealed that the average penis size is not the 12” advertised by porn stars. Besides, these porn stars are not representative of the average man. They may very well be more well-endowed than you (this is their luck) or have undergone some enlargement procedure. The average penis size is actually between 5.5 to 6.4 inches in erect length and 4.7 to 5.2 inches in girth.
But countless women have agreed that the length of the penis has not much to do with sexual pleasure; but width may indeed matter in the long run. It has to do with stimulating their G-spot which is supposed to be located about two inches inside the upper wall of the vagina.
The nerves that are stimulated during sexual intercourse are located near the entrance of the vagina and the anus. Penis girth is significant here since a meatier penis can stretch out the vaginal or anal walls that stimulate the nerves. This creates friction and sensation that most women love during a sexual experience.
Anyway, preference is still based on the individual woman. Because of the points highlighted above, many women have a penchant for larger dicks. But remember, it’s not only a big penis women crave. They seek passion, intimacy and emotional connection. Remember to show her your love by giving her flowers, a sensual massage, or candles with rose petals. Assault her senses with romantic gestures and you’ll be well rewarded. If you have a girthy penis, you’ll be rewarded even more .
Experiment on different sexual positions and incorporate toys in your love-making. Identify her key erogenous zones (i.e., her clitoris) and come up with techniques to stimulate her -- with your tongue, vibrator, fingers, etc.
Penis size is important but it’s also the combination of skill, passion and romance. After all, sex is as much fun as you make it.
Source: Penis Enlargement Products
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Italy is a breathtakingly beautiful country that will always be one of the highlights for anyone’s travel to Europe. It has everything from the impossibly blue Mediterranean Sea to the spectacular Alps, with fabulous food at every stop along the way. And while you are there, you can’t help but trip over history with every step you take.
Here are few things you cannot miss when you travel to Italy:
--Venice. Think about it. How many movies have you seen that were set in this romantic city? Well there is a reason. If there is a city with more charm and magic than Venice, someone is keeping it a very tight secret. (Oh sure, I can just hear those Parisians objecting that their’s is the most romantic city, but those folks are hardly objective. Besides, this is an article about Italy.)
The “streets” are waterways and the city is gradually sinking into the Adriatic Sea. But don’t worry, it will still be there by the time you get there to see it all.
--The Roman Colosseum.Talk about the original home for extreme games. You can almost hear the ghosts of gladiators clashing their swords and signing multi-drachma contracts with their agents.
The Colosseum is both a spectacular and grim place, considering the many senseless acts of violence that occurred here. Kind of like the beauty pageants are today.
--Florence. If you aren’t already an art lover, you will be after visiting Florence. Walk in the footsteps of Michelangelo, Da Vinci and Raphael and your life will be forever changed.
One word of warning however, if you are already prone to feelings of penis envy or inadequacy, Michelangelo’s 18-foot statue of David, may not be your cup of tea.
--The Vatican. The art, architecture, history and sheer aura of this place will leave you speechless.
--Wine country. The folks in France won’t admit this either, but Italian wines are often every bit as good (sometimes even better) than their French counterparts. Take a tour and you will enjoy the tastings all the more after having seen the sheer craftsmanship and patience that goes into making fine wines.
And need I remind you to purchase a few of your favorites so you can bring them home to impress your friends with your refinement and worldly sophistication.
--The Italian Alps. OK, I will admit that I kept thinking, “these mountains cannot be real. I bet some Hollywood film company put together the ultimate background to impress the tourists.” But in actual fact, they are real. And they are beautiful beyond anything you have ever imagined before in your life.
What has always amazed me was that Hannibal surprised the Romans by bringing elephants through the Alps. Elephants were the ancient warfare equivalent of our modern tanks, so you can bet Hannibal had the Romans running for their adult Pampers as soon as they saw his army coming over those mountains.
I read somewhere that Italy is the home of more American ex patriots than any other country. So you should be warned in advance that if you stay too long in Italy, you might never want to come back. With that in mind, proceed with caution.
COPYRIGHT © 2005, Charles Brown. All rights reserved.
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The Forest
As we drove farther into the outskirts of Augsburg, looking out placidly across the top of cars, houses, and at the dogs running about, I got thinking, thinking how I felt being with Chris, about Chris. It was like I was cast into a spell, an enchantment, or perhaps a curse; very seldom did I ever feel like this. Normally I would feel like this only if I was in the presence of a great person, like my karate instructor in San Francisco, Gosei Yamauchi, or his father ‘The Cat’ Gogan, who was one of the few 10th degree black belts in the world. Normally I’d be high the whole next day. With Chris I felt the same way I knew tomorrow I’d be high all day, it was a natural high.
Once—I can’t remember when—I had read something about the poet Emily Dickinson, she was something like a recluse, but she made a poem indicating nature was her high, and I always remember that. How true this can be, grabbing the moment and cherishing it, absorbing it as if there was no tomorrow, and at the same time absorbing nature: the sounds and the heart beat mother earth, and sky; others humans, and the dogs and birds, all such things that at that moment surround you; they are all somewhat magical. I was learning, how to be a listener if anything and it entailed all things within your presence.
Chris was fully alive now, as I turned my head towards her delectation her steering wheel facing me, at which made the moment a little more interesting, as she felt good about me checking her out; a weary kind of sense, not defeat, just a good profile look; I thought dimly in my mind as she drove mile after mile: how could she afford to look so prim and proper all the time. Do her hair in a unique style, not a hair out of place, so it seemed. I guess in our own way we are all unique, I heard that someone say that someplace, not sure where.
An hour and a half had passed on by and she was still driving, and it was getting dark. She pulled into a wooded area; she said it was the outer rim of the Black Forest (otherwise known as the Eyebrow of the Woods), I think I heard of that forest in a fairytale book or at least that is where my mind said I got it from. An enchanting name, I must had said it my second self, that little person inside of all of us that we talk to: Black Forest, Black Forest…!
“So you see,” said Chris “…here we are!” She added her conclusive little smile to her face as she said that; as we entered the dark huge green forest, parking the car a little off to the side of a dirt road that lead into the deeper and more distant part of the forest, partly covered by trees and bushes now.
There was a chill in the air so I rolled up the window, as she turned on the radio for some music.
Very quickly and carefully she moved her thin reserved neck and shoulders into my area, she just starred at me, as if she was going to eat me up; as her left arm was lowered, it pulled out a bottle of Mosel-Saar-Ruwer wine, 1965 wine, -- I looked the bottle over 9.5% volume; I knew they had been making wine around this intriguing river and hilly area for close to 1700-years. It was good wine I had tasted it before, not sweat or dry, flowerily white wine to be exact.
“Now,” said Chris indignantly, but with the air of a certain point, “…let’s see what we can do with this battle.
We started to drink and laugh.
“Ah, yes,” I said to her, “you have a lovely profile.” She smiled and threw her head back.
“Well,” I thought out loud “… this is a good way to pass the night away, and begin romantic indecencies”-- she leaned over the center-divider of the bucket seats to kiss me. She opened her mouth, sunk her lips on mine, as she pulled her long legs to the under-part of the dash, she then started to unzip her zipper to her boots.
“This,” commented Chris “passes everything…I never did it in a car before.” She had drunk down 1/5 of the wine like a person drinking water.
“Chick,” said Chris, ”…come over here.”
I moved my body closer to hers. Everything seemed to be in the way. I could not back out of whatever was going to happen; and I knew what was in the makings.
She was starting to stretch her hands out: --her blouse went over her head, I just kept looking as she started to strip, I was growing, getting as hard as a pencil.
“Oh, damn Chick,” said Chris heartily as she touched my item. Just her saying that aroused me; then pulling off her bra, and her skirt up I seemed to become tranquilized somehow, my mind slipped to King Solomon, of all things, as he once defined the beauty of a woman’s body and how it was to measured for one’s pleasure by enjoying it fully, and this was all I wanted to do now—enjoy it, and I think Chris was feeling the same way for even though we were both a bit on the tipsy side we were fully aware of our responses, I had lost complete focus of the uncomfortable situation, as she did…
◊…now that she was almost completely stripped only her panties on, she curled up in a fetus position holding her legs and leaning back, then opened up her legs slowly… I thought what every on earth possessed her, yet who can predict women I told myself, and started to take off my cloths, quickly…getting out of this spill of sorts. I guess it is true, men like to observe, and women like to touch. I liked both. This was not dirty sex, this was pure sex, at its height, one might even say, it was like a painting; she painted the picture, she taught me how to enjoy what she had to offer.
“I’m going to get it all off in a minute,” I said, it was difficult working in this cramped space… she chuckled, “Slowly please, I can wait…”she softly said as she rested her head back and I caught my breath, that is what she wanted, that is, for me to calm down, yet remain hard and possessed with her offering: I think we both had multiorgasms
“I feel fine now –“ I said, adding, “cramped but fine…☺”
Chris opened up her arms I couldn’t back away after that, could I?
I told myself: I have a private room at the barracks…. Then said it out loud to her:
“Of course, -- next time…” said she, and we continued to make love for the third orgasm for me, for her, perhaps five or six.
We seemed to flop around the front seat finding the right position…’she‘s looking at me eeeeeeeee’, I told myself, I’m cramped, nothing to grab a hold of, her head leaning against the glass of the window. Without a word we continued: --my body heavy onto hers, my heart beating two-hundred ticks a minute, we both were hot, enmeshed in the moment, a lustful, and burning moment; I wanted to open the door, but feared the light going on and someone would see us, plus the air was cool, too cool. I had no escape we met each other’s eyes as I penetrated her. She looked again deep into my eyes as she tried to catch her breath, to make sure I was still alive I think. It was seemingly unfair for me to put her through this I thought, but the thought only lasted a half second, I found myself exploding … as my heart dropped to my feet, and again, and again, I exploded and burned as if I had opened myself up to a volcano; I had learned at that moment, the difference between happiness and pressure: happiness was listening to her talk before, and then came her smile, now the pleasure, sex; I hurt, this had never happened before.
“Nice evening, isn’t it?” I said as I started pulling her body closer to me.
“I hope you are not offended I am taking the lead?” said Chris.
“Not at all,” I said, adding, “I’ll catch up.”
“There are times,” said Chris, “when rules are made to be broken like now, them...mmm damn silly rules…” she pulled herself up a bit, “I stopped believing in those rules… this is one of those moments I want to remember…remember for a long time, even after I am dead.”
As we tried to untwist our bodies, we caught ourselves laughing at our odd situation. We had made love, and became a little more sensitive with each other…a little more possessive of each other, I guess that is the nature of things in a relationship, they are made to progress, or stop, one or the other, and it was never to take place again in the front seat of a Mustang I knew….
She laid her cheek against my hand.
“Chick.”
“Yes?”
“You realize don’t you, this can’t end here?”
“There’s no reason for it to end, is there?”
“No.”
She spoke some German words I didn’t understand, German mingled with English I should say: then somehow, she went silent…maybe she was taking time to remember the moment, digesting it; I didn’t know, nor did I want to try to guess, I just looked at her, her smile it seemed to promise something, grace; instinct was in it also, around her small enclosed eyes, as they opened and shut slowly they were weaving a web I do believe, “It won’t end here, I promise.”
Pleasant and agreeable-like a well-cultured woman she was, maybe too much for me, she opened the door, and dressed quickly, then got back in.
“Want a cigarette?” I asked, sitting up straight.
“No and neither do you. We are both restless it seems. Come over to me,” she started kissing me.
As she released her lips from mine, she sat upright now, pulled out a cigarette, lit it and started blowing smoke rings into the air.
“You know perfectly well, I’m very much attracted to you…yoouuuu… right?”
“I hope so, I feel the some way.”
“Luckily the wine deadens the bruises (discoloration).” I commented, she laughed and kind of stretched her back to put it back in place…”Me to,” she replied.
“I wish all relationships could start like ours, it is like saying let’s drop all the game playing and pretend we are on the fifth date, and cut the crap; I like you Chick, I like you very much…”
“The bruises will show up tomorrow,” I told Chris.
Kind of saying maybe we should go, but neither one of us seemed to be all that bothered with that so we simply started kissing again after her cigarette brake…it was a long and needed pause for me, for a second breathe, a refractory period I needed [from uninterrupted sex]; that is, having multiple orgasms drains a man. I’ve learned also, women don’t need this rest period; so in time I’d learn how to last longer, and perhaps stretch the orgasms thinner but again, longer (three hours at the most; and I did).
I thought in my head, she was having sex with me, and then that rich boyfriend she had; she was getting her multiorgasmic pleasures indeed, perhaps a secret to some women, for once they discover this, it is hard for any man to keep up with them, lest he be a superman of sorts. I did not even at that young age have the capacity to pass six organisms; five was my limit I learned. I was limp now; my penis had been as pointed as a scorpions tail a while ago.
As scary as it started out for me I thought my reactions afterwards was cool, I seemed to be letting things take their natural course. It was a dark and colorless evening. Grossly romanticized in such an unimpressive way (so I thought in the back of my mind), yet Miss Chris was perfect.
I thought to myself: maybe she might be annoyed with my lovemaking… I guess every man wants to please the woman, wife, girlfriend, the one he is making love to, or should want to please her, but most don’t; how can they, they pop too quickly. This is a fact, I’ve talked to men, and when they say they go so quick, no woman could get it on in that time period. A woman taught me how to hold myself from climaxing too early, thus allowing the woman to catch up—and therefore, allowing my female mate to get it on and enjoy. I know this evening went a little fast, but Chris was modest about it, like that other woman who had taught me, helped me, to help her, so we both could enjoy each other more; as my slowing down kept my penis hard longer, allowing her pleasure zone to become wider. This was something of the case in hand, but not completely.
Most men think they make love better drinking, but it’s far from the truth. Most men do not know how to make love, no one taught them, so all they do is f*ck, and that is not love, that is, if anything, a quick climax, like eating a big fat burger, and wiping your mouth in its enjoyment and then leaving the café only to find out: you got indigestion, and had you went to a nicer restaurant, ate slower, you’d never forget the meal.
I have experimented with that theory, and it is nine-minutes verse four-hours, I say four hours, but I knew in my head it was only one time I lasted four hours, two and a half was the norm.
I was thinking now—as Chris kissed me—how I owe some women a bit of gratitude for allowing me to have my pleasure and not returning it to them; that’s the caretaker in a woman I think. But women just don’t know men can learn. And men are too bull-headed to let women teach them what pleases them. I had learned a good lover was worth his weight in gold and even maybe a little more: sometimes they can be irresistible.
One could hardly tell her it wasn’t hastily done, our sex (to me it was) for it was, but she seemed to understand the circumstances, and we need not prove anything today, only allow our bodies to be sanctioned to the other. So I think we both felt. Lovemaking would improve as time went on.
“I’m afraid my lover, we will have to find better accommodations next time,” Chris said, smiling at me.
“Yes,” I hesitated, “absently,” I hesitated-- “I feel the same way.”
“It’s a little hard in such a cramped car luckily we are both a little tipsy….”
“I’m afraid I’m not, somehow I sobered up when you took your blouse off.” She smiled, with a grin.
“Yes. I sense you have, do you really like me Chick?”
“You are growing on me. And what is there not to like?”
She was like a schoolgirl at times, needing to be encouraged, to grow up, and needed to be admired. But she didn’t need permission to live, she was taking that—but I’m learning to appreciate women more, I told myself, and it seems the more I show appreciation, the more they respect me, and to be quite frank with myself, I need respect. And why not … the world will give it, if you demand it, and if not, let that part of the world go; so my second self, my mind’s eye, told me.
But then as I looked at her, if she really felt she was on death row, with cancer, maybe I was just a remedy for a while, and if so, so what, maybe I needed a remedy to make it through my time here in Germany; so seemed just to me.
8
The Spider and
The Web
A warm-wind had picked up it seemed, and April and May in Germany was a paradise of light-cool sunrays, it was a spring never to forget, Chris and I were growing on one another, like white on rice. More community drinking fairs were picking up and Chris and I tried to make a few, drink it up and eat and just go with the flow; it was a good time for living.
Chris and I were known throughout the guardhouse-barracks as lovers and a heat wave at that. She seemed to have a charm with my soldier friends, and often drove her German boyfriend’s Mercedes car to the gate, and about, showing off kind of, not only to me, but it seemed at times going out of her way to show it to the other guards. Most of my friends thought she had two cars, I simply did not up date them, if they were not in my way of thinking or inner circle—why squander my time; and in most cases they didn’t have a need to know; but Ski and a few other of my friends knew the truth. I felt: plus, I felt: why not let Chris make an impression at the guard shacks, if it helps her ego so be it. I do not think I was envious, rather amused. I’m sure somewhere along the line I’d have to deal with envy, but who at my age is envious, for what, I have a lifetime to catch up.
She flirted with the guards, and they all thought it cool. At night, if I had to work, she would bring me by a sandwich while on duty; in one way she got the guys a little jealous, or in lack of a better word, annoyed. And sometimes she would simply walk into barracks, which had about fifteen-guards some running around half naked from the shower room to their room, while others went visiting. She’d come knocking on my door. She’d spend the night with me, it was an improvement from the car, and for some reason we only went over to her house once in the following two months. I knew we were not fooling anyone at the guard-barracks, but we pretended to be secret about it anyway.
