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  1. Cruising places: Parks 1. Tasik Kelana Jaya (HAPPENING!) 2. Tasik Permaisuri HUKM side (HAPPENING!) 3. Bukit Kommanwel hill top Swimming Pools 1. Kelana Jaya Swimming Pool (HAPPENING!) 2. Chin Woo Swimming Pool (HAPPENING!) 3. Bandar Tun Razak Malls 1. KL Sentral toilet besides KFC (HAPPENING!) 2. Nu Sentral toilet besides HM (HAPPENING!) 3. Sunway Pyramid toilet below TGV 4. Avenue K toilet Level C & next to Tealive 5. Empire gallery Toilet beside popular / uniqlo. (Once in the blue moon) RnR 1. LDP towards Kepong besides Caltex (HAPPENING!) 2. LDP towards Puchong from Sunway McDonald (HAPPENING!) 3. Shell toilet at kesas highway towards kota kemuning also got. (Depends lucks, mostly taxi driver or lorry driver) 4. Shell toilet USJ Hicom (Happening) Gym 1. CF Sunway Pyramid (HAPPENING!) 2. CF Mid Valley 3. CF 1 Utama (HAPPENING!) 4. FF Avenue K (HAPPENING!) 5. FF The Curve 6. FF Empire (HAPPENING!) 7. FF Paradigm Mall (Happening)
  2. Inspired by the living in ur 30s discussion, what would you have done differently had you have known what you know today? or no regrets etc at all? Can you still salvage the situation, if necessary?
  3. Hi all, there is a syndicate group targeting our community now. i got to know this person by the name/profile of "frank scott" from fridae. he told me he wanted to buy a house or apartment in Singapore about 1 month ago. he said he does not know anyone in Singapore so i offer to help. he had been calling and email me all these while saying that he is coming to Singapore yesterday. He is from UK and often travel. his mobile number is always unknown number when he call you (+447539580075 or +447031802633). yesterday someone by name of emily wong (+60102799735) called and she claimed to be calling from malaysia customs called me saying that Frank is carrying too much cash and need to pay tax. he can only afford some amount as they had seized all his luggage. so they called me to help to pay the reminding 5000 malaysia Ringgit. i was abit skeptical but in order to save him, i went ahead. i know things happen in Malaysia customs. when asked for the account number to tranfer the money, they gave me a personal account name "Hassan Abdul Karim".Immediately i questioned why is it not a Malaysia customs name or dept. Western Union tranfer of fund does not need account number" She replied that this is the correct account. 1 hour later she called again and said that he need to pay insurance to ensure that the money can comes to Singapore. This time they demanded RM 11800. i immediately turned down as i do not know this person and have no obligation to help. So they reduce to RM 10000. I also asked why is there a need to pay insurance, if he is in Singapore, i can assist him if he have difficulty. Frank was crying at the back and beg for assistance. I recommend to make police report.I told him to contact his family and company for help, but he said the time is still early in London. And i also mentioned if he have access to his luggage, he should be able to take out money from his brief case.i was not very sure if this is real cases Frank also booked a hotel in Singapore and i checked with hotel there is indeed a booking. I draw the money from the bank and went to western union again, this time they stopped me from sending the money saying that one remit per day to one person. Emily called again and this time gave me another account by name of Harry Michael. then the supervisor asked me why i need to transfer so much money, i told them the reason and she called Western Union. Western Union informed that there is a syndicate group from UK and actively in Asia. this is a know thing in Western Union and whenever there is such transaction, they will be on alert. they also given me a website www.419bittenus.com it has all the pictures of the group and stories of all victims.they told me to ignore the call. luckily the RM 10000 money didnt went thru this time. however this time every 3 minutes Emily Wong keeps calling i ignore the call. Last nite i made a police report believing that this is a syndicate group. i also called up the hotel they told me frank scott delayed his schedule to Singapore due to some custom issues. I was still hesitating. I also called Frank and he was blaming me for not helping him. he was abit worried when he heard there is a siren sound behind and keep asking me what was it. I also told him that its no more morning in London and he can call his family for help. However i called Malaysia custom to check this morning and they told me its all SCAM. they heard this story everyday. i know its abit lengthy but a warning to all that the email scam is no longer new anymore..now they will get to know their victim thru website making you believe them. For me i lost abut RM 5000 but not RM 10000.
  4. I accidentally blocked someone on the chat here. how do i undo that, please?
  5. Some men or women from Nigeria and china and elsewhere have stolen picture profile of legitimate people to use in love scams with sad sob story of dying well liked grandmother in need of funds for simple operation, or dying son otherwise curaable cancer unless lack of funds. Lets study all the handsome guys pics , they are real actual persons , but their pictures are stolen by hackers and maoney scamming syndicate to befriend females and sometimes males in rich but gullible countries like singapore , malaysia, indonesia, even in places like Canada, Ameirca, ,Europe. Object : Matrimony. immigrate with said gentlemen to beautiful problem western country. SIDELINE : there is always some loose strings to be tied, hurdles to be cleared before the two love birds can meet for thr first time. Money need to be paid at the customs immigration for goods helf behind for lack of proper papers the scammee will always to fork out first before a relalease is secured. sideline 2 > the scammers is arrested by the border for carrying thr worng luggage , wrong passport....the scammee wuill have to send money to the scammers to secure his release, then another arrest for lodging the right border clearance papers. henc emore delays and more more mony sscamme forks out until almost empty back account to realisse, handsome european guy is still asking for air ticket to fly to scammes country because in the confusion the tcket got flush down the toilet. Lets look at pic one Kevin clark not his real name Kevin clark not the real name, but to me he looks honest, determined and generally sexually virile, and have potential for the future sex fucks fireworks, young takes good care of his goatee, good catch noe for future sexual happiness.' HUH Huh you just been scam by Nigerian scammer,
  6. just like to share and warn others to be aware and take caution of a scammer trying to sell supplements for weight loss and muscle gains. Got to know thru the app. Selling some supplements and list (probably screenshot, from gainzlab). After trasnferring the money, no news from him. Before that, he even showed past messages and pictures to prove he is real. Bank account is POSB Savings : 193-41432-0 Goes by jeremy ( or in the app, be something like fat burner, etc) Guess an expensive lesson learnt.. sigh,,already trying to go for equality, but still scammers everywhere. So just do take note and beware. Best luck
  7. Hi guys, just asking for your experience here. Recently I had a friend who was on grindr. He told me he found two guys, both into bdsm. They wanted him to go online and sign up for some Webcam site before meeting up with him. When he told them he didn't have a credit card to sign up with, they asked him to pay for some bdsm kit through a supplier using western union to the Philippines. Luckily he was unable to pay because of the many roadblocks placed. He was so sure that they were real but he didn't have any proof that they were. I was convinced he was getting catfished. Has anything like this happened to you guys? Thanks so much!
  8. Would like to ask where to Tan at Sentosa ? Also, would like to ask for places to tan in sg.
  9. I do not think it is true. but does anyone think otherwise though?
  10. Being gay we mostly don't have a lot of gay friends compared to straight guys. Mostly we have some 2 or 3 closer gay friends, with whom we share life, events, spend leisure, do sports or travels. What if one the close friends has disappointed you extremely and something what would qualify to break off the friendship. What should I do? let go or look to get the friendship back on track. should I ignore him for 3 months but then out of the blue ask him out again? Do you have any idea or suggestions in my situation?
  11. I am turning 25 years old in a few months time and I have never been in a relationship before... let alone have sex. I find it so odd to be a virgin at 25 years old. Every now and then, I have the urge to come out as gay to my family and friends but I am afraid that they can't accept it. Especially my family, I am raised in a very traditional family and if my parents were to know I am gay, it is highly that they will commit suicide. But in recent months, this loneliness seems to be overtaking me... I really wish to date someone or experience sex, or just make gay friends. I wanted to start using Grindr, Jack'd etc but I am scared that people who know me might come across my profile as Singapore is so small...has anyone been forced to come out or exposed through using dating app? Please share your stories or advice! Thank you.
  12. Hello everyone! I'm a skincare junkie and I hope to learn about your skincare routines, favourite products, tips on maintaining your face & combating acne For me in this weather I have oily combination skin, oily on the t-zone and the other parts of my face & a little dry on the inner cheeks of my face. Some of my favourite products Sunscreen: Dr Jart, UV sun fluid, which I bought at Sephora. Took me long to find the perfect sunscreen for me because most sunscreen are generally thick, heavy on the face & leaves a chalky white finish on the face however the consistency and texture of this sunblock is light and thin almost water gel like absorbs into the skin nicely & leaves no white finish. I've been using it for almost a year now and have repurchased a new bottle would continue to use this. Moisturisers: Like the sunblock it took me quite a while to finally find something I like, but for now I'm using the Bioderma Sensibio Light soothing cream as my moisturiser. It's not thick & it absorbs well. I'm currently trying to find and explore other moisturisers so if you have any suggestions please share too
  13. Hey guys I think most guys are always concerning about PE issue and whether or not they have it Apparently most of us would like to hold longer and have a bigger dick so and so However we always ejaculate very fast and easily if we don't put in any effort at all to control (Share with me if it's not the case for you) I have recently been exposed to a testing technique for PE from someone but I don't know it holds true for majority or not It appears to be a true test for my condition at least as I know I've been suffering from some sort of PE issue The test basically is easy to be done and adopted partially from a component of BDSM which is edging The process is simple by first lying on your back and getting an erection Then apply a water-based lube thoroughly on your dick Last is the crucial part already and you have to use one hand to hold at the base of your dick and the other hand to rub your dick head in any possible directions focusing more on the sensitive areas at that moment as the area of sensitivity strangely changes over time and every time You can choose to do it with porn or without but the precaution is that you must not stroke your cock AT ALL, NOT AT ALL throughout or else the test won't be accurate However it's normal if you feel a strong urge to do the stroking naturally You have to be conscious and control not to The only motion is rubbing and the other hand stays still at the base of the dick all the while Keep trying to look for the sensitive spots to rub The rubbing has to be done continuously without any intentional breaks in between even if you feel tingling or ticklish The test is positive if you cum from this and the duration is the severity of your PE issue The test is negative if you only keep having the urge to cum but you couldn't and at max only 'dry' orgasms occur The concept behind this test is naturally and innately the nerve connection to cum should be from stroking or fucking mostly and if you have over sensitive nerve connection to cum you will cum by stimulating other nerves near and peripheral to that This might be a good test for PE issue and hopefully if you guys are concerned can try and let me know if you think this test is legit or not The process may be unbearable and unpleasant to some but enjoyable and hyper to some It all depends on the sexual intensity one normally endures Always start slow and steady ya
  14. Guest

    Raffles Hotel

    Hi i know this is random but could yall help me😅. My internship got cancelled this semester and now im supposed to gather feedback about my industry partner. If any of yall have stayed in raffles hotel, please do this survey. it would really mean alot.🙏 https://forms.gle/xu3ekdWDh8TsmibU9
  15. Do you feel horny when wearing black underwear? I do and I always assumed everyone feels the same way until a friend told me he doesn't. To him, wearing black underwear feels the same way as wearing any other colours. For me, the kinds of black underwear that have the most horny effect are briefs and jockstraps made of cotton, while swimming trunks don't have any effect at all. Do you feel the same way too? For days when I feel horny, I would wear black underwear. But the problem is if I wear it, I would be horny and think about sex all the time the whole day when I am wearing it, until I take it off, then the horniness could subside. The black underwear effect works like a magic spell almost. So for days when I do not want to think about sex, I have to avoid wearing black underwear. While sometimes I enjoy the horniness when wearing black underwear, sometimes I find the constant horniness all the time too much for me to do my work or concentrate. Do you face the same issue? How do you manage it? And I suspect wearing black underwear may decrease performance in sports and at the gym since it's harder to concentrate when it makes me horny and think about sex. Do you share the same experience? I also get horny when I see other people wear black underwear. And seeing black underwear by itself also has the same effect, eg. those black underwear that are hanged to dry. Do you feel the same way too? And at the end of the day after wearing black underwear, do you usually masturbate or have sex and ejaculate? Otherwise, I find that the horniness doesn't subside on its own easily.
  16. Hello there, hope you are keeping yourselves safe during circuit breaker period. Has anyone tried Epimedium Macum (a.k.a. Turkish Honey) to strengthen endurance and performance? I have tried but it gave me hot flashes and it felt as if my head was going to explode, but after a while, the sensation subsided and I was able to perform incredibly well 😊 Any alternative options out there with less hot-flashes effects? I was pleased with the end result but could spare the initial effects, thanks.
  17. Hey guys Let's start a pretty harmless discussion. As on the title - I'm perplexed over the Malay/chinese or Chinese/Malay mix background.. I am noticing on dating sites, most of the Malay chaps here identify themselves as " Mly/Chi " mix - but upon meeting, most of them basically good old Malay guys. I did ask - which part are they Chinese - and I get "oh, I can speak a bit of Mandarin" This is where I'm stumped with the response? What defines a Malay/Chinese mix when there is no trace of Chinese DNA in one. Why can't a Malay guys admit that they're Malay? I have friends who are actually Arabs by race, they look like any Malay or Filipinos here in Singapore, they converse in Malay but define themselves as Malay because most of them claim that it be less complicated to explain the ancestry background. I have friends who look very Chinese, fair skinned but they're just full blooded Malay joes... So are the Malay guys here having an identity issues?
  18. I came across this poignant essay about a daughter's journey of accepting her father's homosexuality in The New Yorker: One of my earliest childhood memories is my father taking me in the evening to Samena Swim & Recreation Club in Bellevue. It was just him and me. I’d taken swim lessons and could hang out by myself with the help of water wings, goggles, and a kickboard while my father swam laps in a nearby lane. I loved the echo in the cavernous room, the way the sounds and voices melded into each other, gurgling, muted, watercolors for the ears. I spun around, did the dead man’s float, watched pale, distorted legs dangle down into the blue. I kept one eye on my dad and another on the pool’s edge, my two sources of safety. Too young to get changed in the women’s locker room alone, I’d accompany my father to the men’s area. Once my clothes were tugged back over my arms and legs, sticky from inadequate toweling off, dampness seeping through in the creases but warm nonetheless, I’d wait for my father to shower and dress. As I sat there I wasn’t looking anywhere in particular: at the rubber mats on the floor, the slats in the bench, at pale toes like gnarled gingerroots, calves with hair worn off in patches from dress socks, and knees everywhere, those scrunched-up, featureless faces. “Stop staring,” my dad would insist over and over again, sounding admonishing and embarrassed. I kept my head down. Later I realized that this reminder, this reprimand, was likely something my father was saying to himself more than to me. The shame of looking, of wanting to look. And then there was that time we were pulling the car into the garage and from the backseat I yelled the word “penis” for no reason other than that I was eight years old and at that age it’s fun to call out the words for genitalia in a loud voice. One day I’d come home from kindergarten and repeated a term I’d heard on the playground: “motherfucker two-ball bitch.” Whether it was at my ignorant daring or at the perplexity of the phrase itself, I’m not sure, but my parents laughed. Here I was now going for the encore. But saying “penis” in front of my father, while he was trapped in a car with me, and thus trapped with that word, and whatever he pictured in his mind when he heard that word, whatever feelings he felt about that word, that thing, resulted in me being dragged upstairs and getting my mouth washed out with soap. Oh, we also received the International Male catalog, a men’s underwear catalog that is essentially a showcase for big European cocks. Only in retrospect can I find clues to my father’s gayness. Sometimes the dull detritus of our pasts become glaring strands once you realize they form a pattern, a lighted path to the present. I have to turn over and reimagine certain moments from my childhood and make them conform to a different narrative, a different outcome. When my sister and I were both away at college, my father, still living in the house we grew up in, informed us that he was going to start taking in “boarders.” I imagined something out of a W. Somerset Maugham novel: doilies, stale biscuits, afternoon tea, a collision of international seekers. Except our house was in the suburbs, carpeted, with an open layout, replete with landings and those bulked-up banisters that were good for jumping off when adults weren’t around, or for hide-and-seek stealthiness. The playroom, with its sloped ceiling, old striped couch, and first-generation CD player, would be the “room for rent.” The idea of a boarder seemed odd, even seedy. I was indignant. This was a childhood home, not a hostel! It wasn’t for financial reasons. My father’s rationale was that the house was unnecessarily big for one person—true. And empty—also true. I suppose he was staving off loneliness. They were always men or college-aged boys. They were unlike my father: One was a snowboarder with beachy, blond hair whose family owned a water sports business. Another was a part-time musician who sold me an Ampeg amplifier head and cabinet that he was storing in the garage. My garage! One man I know nothing about save for the fact that his car was repossessed right there in the driveway. If they had one thing in common it was that all of them were slightly wayward, rough-hewn, jocose. I would occasionally come home on the weekends and no longer feel like the house was a retreat, or even mine—I was simply crashing there like anyone else. There was a new sense of transience to the house, of transition. It was a husk, emptied of sentimentality, populated by strangers, and by that I don’t just mean these men, I also mean my father. I am certain nothing happened between the renters and my dad. The men, the boys, were unaware, in between and on their way. But for my father this was a rehearsal, a way of circling around a new kind of male intimacy. My father was a corporate lawyer. He went to work in a suit and tie. He had a secretary. He left the house before seven a.m. His professional life felt generic, like a backdrop, a signifier more than a life: office job. I knew very little about what he did. He traveled to China, Russia, Australia, sending home postcards and returning with stuffed koala bears or wooden nesting dolls. He collected toy trucks and paraphernalia with company insignia that he displayed atop credenzas or that my sister and I would grudgingly mix in with our other toys, as if we didn’t want to sully our Cabbage Patch dolls or My Little Ponies with crass corporate sponsorship. My dad had work friends whom we saw infrequently. It was all trousers and ties. Grays and browns. There was a sterility to it that I found both exotic and comforting. The office was in a nineteen-seventies high-rise next to a mall. A swift-moving elevator, a destination we’d reach undeterred, a telephone number I had memorized, a secretary who knew my name. My father wasn’t just taciturn—it was like he didn’t want to be heard. I don’t know if he had nothing to say or if he didn’t know what to say. Perhaps his reticence came from not being able to name what or who he was, or what he felt. So he stayed quiet, and he waited for the words to find him. This is what I knew about my father: He grew up in Evanston, Illinois, outside of Chicago. He attended Duke University and then the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign for law school. He has one brother. He was the assistant coach of my soccer team, and the head coach of my sister’s. He ran marathons. He mowed the lawn. He was always working on something called a sump pump in the crawl space. He was slight and handsome, dark-eyed, wide-eyed, wide-nostrilled, looking curious and confounded, boyish. He was stern yet timid, a disciplinarian with no follow-through, self-conscious, not prone to affection, undemonstrative. He liked liver pâté. He had a mustache and then he didn’t; I cried when he shaved it off because I didn’t know he had a space between the bottom of his nose and his upper lip, like a pale secret. My father was hard to know, and gave little indication that there was much to know. He claimed he remembered almost nothing about his childhood. He only ever recalled one incident. It was about the first time he came home from college on holiday break. He was sitting in his parents’ home, waiting for my grandfather to return from work. When my grandfather came through the door, he greeted the family dog first, even though he and the hound had only been apart for the day and my father had been gone for months. That’s the story. My father came out to me in the summer of 1998. I was headed to Seattle from Olympia to pick up a friend at the airport. She wasn’t arriving until almost midnight, so the plan was to stop in on my father and then visit some friends after their soundcheck at the Crocodile Café. My father was at his first apartment in Seattle. He had sold the Redmond house, a nontraumatic event, probably for the best considering it had become a house for wayward youth. I was relieved he was out of the suburbs, especially Redmond, changed so fiercely by Microsoft, transformed into a corporate headquarters, indistinguishable from the brand. It was as though you could see an architect’s model as you walked around; it had an exemplary quality, both a place and a placeholder. Seattle felt like a good spot for my father. Though he’d been living there for a while now, his apartment had that strange first-apartment feel, always odd for someone you associate with the accumulation of things. Parents are supposed to be our storage facilities: insert a memory, let them hold on to it for you. Leave behind stuffed animals and school projects, report cards and clothes, they keep them so you don’t have to. I knew that wasn’t part of the bargain with my family. I’ve thrown out piles of things, taken them to the dump and never looked back. But still, to see my dad in a blank space, it only seemed to make him more blurry, like he had just appeared on a canvas, before the background was filled in. His sphere was borderless, and the sense of nowhere made me feel alone, unbound. I’d often felt that around my relatives, but now I felt it anew and acutely. Like the first time my dad bought Christmas ornaments and I realized that after wanting to celebrate Christmas for so long, it wasn’t about having a tree, it was about having a box in the basement or attic or garage, something that we could return to over and over again, something that said, this is us and this is where we were last year, and this is where we’ll stay, and this is where we’ll pile on memories, over and over again, until there are so many memories that it’s blinding, the brightness of family, the way love and nurturing is like a color you can’t name because it’s so new. And then my father went out and bought cheap ornaments and we took them out of boxes and plastic and I realized it wasn’t Christmas that I wanted. What I wanted was a family. So here was my father, in this white apartment with textured walls and thick carpeting, and the scant amount of furniture and paintings he’d brought from Redmond, looking like interlopers, like imposters, neither here nor there. And we’re sitting in this living room and I have no idea who he is and he says, “So I guess I’m coming out to you.” He said it like that, in a sort of meta way, as if he were along for a ride that his new self was taking him on. Which was typical, like he was just a sidekick in his own life, a shadow, though I’m assuming it was more of a linguistic fumbling, not knowing exactly how to come out or what words to use. I was used to this sort of presentational mode at this point. What I heard was “Your mother is going into the hospital,” or “Your mother is moving out,” or “I have cancer,” and then again a few years later, “I have cancer.” I was used to being sat down and presented with life-altering information and taking it with expected nonchalance. This was me asking my friends’ parents about MS all over again. My role was to be factual and professional, like a reporter. Emotions were not part of the equation. So, tell me, Dad, how did you know? What my father explained next was basically the history of the Internet, at least in terms of how we use it for social media and networking. In fact, if it weren’t for the Internet, I don’t know if my father would have realized, or been able to acknowledge, that he was gay. I thought of Microsoft taking over Redmond, and now gayness taking over my father. He began in chat rooms. International ones. Asking questions. Talking with other men, many of them married, he made sure to point out. Eventually, it was U.S. chat rooms, exchanging stories, feelings, desires, telling of trysts and transgressions, confusion, shame, lust. Eventually he was chatting with other men in Seattle. The truth was a satellite, the picture getting clearer, circling and homing in, and then he was close enough to touch it. He met a male nurse named Russ, a friend, someone he could confide in. And there was a Northwest men’s running group. He was allowing the truth to get closer: it was the galaxy at first, then global, then the continent, then local, and finally the shape of him, settling in. I don’t know what that must have felt like, to realize you have a body at the age of fifty-five. The year before, my father had been diagnosed with cancer for the second time. Kidney. I remembered that right before his surgery he had taken a business trip to Texas. It seemed strange that his company wouldn’t send someone else, that he would insist on traveling so close to the surgery. I passed it off as stoicism, not wanting cancer to interrupt his life or schedule, or just denial. But that night in Seattle he told me that on an earlier trip he had met a couple in Houston, both lawyers, gay. The trip he took right before his surgery was to come out to them. In case he didn’t make it. To strangers. In Texas. He put down a small “x” on a map, a little scrawl of visibility. Then he came home, the doctors removed the cancer, and he had to live. More important, he wanted to. I took the news better than my sister. She felt abandoned a second time: first my mother, and now this. But I, too, felt confused. If he wasn’t himself during my childhood, then what was my childhood? What was I? When someone says, “That wasn’t me, this is me,” then I wonder how was I myself around a you who wasn’t? My father had been the constant, the territory, and now I felt like he was rescinding. There was no longer a placeholder. I would have to discover him anew. We want our parents to be the norm from which we deviate. So when my dad came out, my instinct was that I needed to husband-up and get married. As if my family wasn’t freaky enough. Me: adrift. My sister: unmarried. My mom: ? And now my dad. Who would fly the flag of normality? My sister bore this burden more heavily than I did. But I immediately felt like I should be popping out kids within a few years of my dad realizing he was gay. Let our parents be anorexic and gay! That shit is for teenagers. My sister and I would be the adults. We would be conventional, conservative even. Guns, God, country, and my contrarian, reactionary self. (This phase lasted about ten minutes.) When my father came out to his mom, my grandmother said, “You waited for your father to die, why couldn’t you have waited for me to die?” I knew then that I never want to contribute to the corrosiveness of wanting someone to stay hidden. Despite all my initial conflicts about trying to reconcile the father I had as a child to the one I have now, I am thankful that he is happy, that he did not waste another second. Now there is someone to know. Link to article: https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/no-normal Was interested if anyone here had parallel stories about coming out to your spouse, parents or children later in life? I'm sure that there would be some painful memories, but perhaps also a hard-won sense of happiness?
  19. I’ve been doing your regular cleanser, toner, moisturiser, and sunscreen combo. Also, a cream for my eczema oof Do you guys have any particular routines or products that you swear by? I’m curious if you heard of using baby lotion as body lotion or something along those lines? I saw DaveyWavey from YT saying he uses lube for moisturising and I can’t stop thinking about it ksksksksksksk
  20. Hey guys, I need advice to handle this situation. My boyfriend and I am in a relationship for almost 2 years now. We never had anal sex from the start and it bothers me. I did told him that i miss getting fuck but he always told me to give him time. He did have problem with getting an erection. He tried supplements that i bought for him like tongkat ali and maca and some supplements from the States he bought himself. It does help a bit but the erection will be gone fast. Sometimes he asked me whether I would like to get another guy to fuck me and he just watch. I reject the offer all the time and told him I am willing to wait for him to heal. I am not willing to do it with other guy because it feels like cheating. I mean that would be an open relationship instead and I only want him and not other guy to have me on bed especially having sex. Maybe I just sound selfish and conservative but it is the way I am treating my partner all this time. I hope you guys here can share some tips on how to handle this. Any product that is good for erection? I scare that if this problem gets prolong it will end up with him having erectile dysfunction.
  21. Newbiegayguy

    Guilty :(

    My sex with my bf lately has been quite unsatisfying, as we usually dont have place to have fun. Then there's this guy who I have been talking to for a while, he's looking for hook-up with his bf. Went to his house today but I couldn't let him fxxx me (im bottom) as guilt ruled me. Ended up him fingering me and himself jerking off. I overheard his conversation with his bf, which claims that I'm the 'cat' falling for 'fish' (his bf). Feeling furious but knowing that I'm in fault as I should not even have been there first hand, what should I do? 😣 It's like having inner fights deep inside.... My bf always tells me he's cool with me 'outsourcing' even though i nvr did anything of such before la (till now).... Thanks in advance to everyone out there 🙏
  22. Guest

    Being Bottom

    Lots of fake guest posts here. This isn’t one of them. Taking time to create an actual account just doesn’t seem convenient, hence this anonymous guest post. What I’m about to share is factual and if I find the courage will become reality. For the longest time I’ve been a purveyor of ladyboys. Feminine beauty combined with the ruggedness of the male appendage never fails to excite. Years gone by I Long for new exciting thrills. During my last visit to a ladyboy I was offered the option to be pleasured anally. Surprisingly I didn’t flinch or hesitate. Curiousity got the better of me and I spread myself for her to enter. Being well endowed I told her to finger me first. From one to two to three fingers. It was a rush. She pushed deep but it hurt and after a while I think she got tired of my squirming. She offered to TOP me but I couldn’t fathom her tool jamming into me. How can I slowly ease myself into this? I’ve thought of meeting a gentle TOP who could guide me gradually. I’m not turned on by males but a dick is a dick right? What would you guys advise?
  23. Hi, I was wondering if you guys have anything you wish you could have told your younger self. And also recognize that our self-reflection, thoughts, experiences (good and bad) can help our peers who may be in need of guidance and support. Hoping we can lift ourselves up and in the process, lift our fellow brothers and sisters up Cheers!
  24. I heard from someone that a guy (A) blamed his so called "partner (B)" that B was always reckless and does not take care of things well. Like B broke a phone that was gifted to him by A... over time, he started dwelling on B's every little lapse or mistake (the fact is that A got sexually bored and stopped having sex with B for more than a year...). Yet, A was proud to brag that he can take care of things well .... but if he is sooooooo good at keeping things well, he would have been capable of keeping his sex life in the relationship good and as sexciting and lasting as before. Am I right?
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