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My husband has been avoiding me because he says I’m too loose, Is there a natural way to tighten up?

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A lot has changed in our marriage, and I always blamed it on time and life. Life because we are both grown up now. We are no longer in our twenties like we were when we first met. Today, we are parents of three kids and have been married for nine years. When we wake up, we think of how to put food on the table and how to run our lives free of debt and problems. We think about the future of the kids God has given us. We think of business and our careers. There is a lot more to think about now than we did when we were in our twenties, and we don’t have enough time to do it all at once. So we both come back from work knackered and with little energy to live the rest of the evening.

When we slept and my husband didn’t make an attempt on me, I understood him. I made excuses for him so I didn’t have to ask him about it. “He’s tired. He might have worked all day at work and needs his rest. He can’t come and work all night too. He’s someone’s son.”

So even when I’m horny and restless, I’ll control myself and sleep through the night without bothering him. But it continued for so long that one night I didn’t have an option but jump up on him when he was deeply asleep. I did the hand job and got him aroused somehow. It wasn’t as hard as I wanted it to be but half a loaf can also be eaten with tea so I took it like that.

He was there looking at me to do my own thing. No contribution. No moan. Nothing. He was just lying there looking at me like it was his first time, and I was the one taking away his innocence. I didn’t talk. I just squeezed whatever juice I could get from the stone and slept afterwards. In the morning, I asked him, “What do you do at work these days that you come home with a half body?” You’re only thirty-nine years old. This is not the time to lose your mojo. You need to exercise and eat well. If it’s a drug that you need, there are many herbal drugs now. “Get something to do because I don’t see you well these days.”

He didn’t say a word. He was washing his face while we were talking so he kept washing, picked up his toothbrush and ignored whatever I was saying to him. Anyway, I didn’t need a response. It was advice I was giving him.

You would expect things would change after that conversation but nothing changed. If anything, it got worse. I would wake up at dawn and work on him for several minutes before I get a half-hard joystick to work with. One night, I worked on him all night and the thing didn’t get up. Again he was there looking at me with pitiful eyes. When I was almost giving up, he said, “Eiii, you can worry yourself ooo. If something cannot work, don’t you see it?” I got pissed and threw myself on the bed and slept. I didn’t really sleep. I was thinking throughout the night. “What could be wrong with this man? Is he losing his powers? Is he going impotent? If I tell him to see a doctor too he won’t. What should I do to help? Is there a drug I can add to his food to solve the problem?”

All night I was scheming while he was lying there snoring feebly like a newborn baby. The annoying thing was, he woke up the next morning with a fully erected machine between his thighs. I was like, “No it’s intentional. He’s intentionally starving me. How can he be dead all night even after working on him but wake up in full grace like that?” I stopped him in front of the bathroom. The only thing that saved him was the fact that the kids were already up.

While at work I texted him naughty things. “Guy man, this evening is going to be fireworks so you better reserve some energy. Tell your boss your wife has ordered you not to use all your energy at work because she wants you fully awake at night. What style would you want so I prepare for it?” All the responses I had from him were emojis and stickers. He later asked me, “Hey, what has come over you? We are not kids OK? I’m here thinking about money and you’re there thinking about sex. It looks like you have too much time on your hand today.” He came home, ate, watch TV all night, bathed and went to sleep like a log.

“Dear, you can tell me anything and it won’t hurt. What’s the problem with us? Have you had enough of me? Is there something I’m not doing? Please let’s talk about it because this wasn’t how we used to be.”

He didn’t want to talk just like always but I wasn’t going to give him that escape this time. I insisted. I pushed him to the wall. I was ready to extract the answer from him no matter what. When he realized I wasn’t going to back down he said, “You said you want the truth right? Here’s the truth. You’ve become too loose that when I do it I don’t feel anything. You think I’m doing a good job hanging on you for that long but it’s because I don’t feel anything. That’s the truth. It wasn’t like that at first and I’m not blaming you too. We have kids. Three of them. Maybe that’s the reason or there’s something you can do but not doing.”

It was a cocktail of feelings for me. Embarrassed. Angry. Lost. Confused. Demeaned. I mean, all the bad feelings were mine that day. I was quiet even after he stopped talking for a long time. I responded, “I hear you.” Conversation ended.

Now I’ve lost confidence in myself, and I even feel shy about being emotionally expressive around him. I don’t make a move on him again, and he doesn’t make a move on me either. It’s been three months already, and we haven’t touched each other. He wakes up every morning with wasted erections, while I wake up every morning with unfulfilled desires. We are still young, and it makes me wonder if that’s the end of our active service. I think about it, and it gives me fear. I don’t even understand what it means to be loose. I’ve read online that there are drugs one can use to tighten things up, but I’m not ready to go into that. I don’t feel comfortable with things being inserted into me, so it’s a no-go area for me. I’ve read somewhere that I could use the kegel exercise to sort things out. I do it, but most often I forget to do it.

I’m here asking if there’s a way out of this maze. Reading advice online, they all suggest I’m not the problem but my husband is the problem. They say there’s nothing like a loose vagina but it’s rather in the head of my husband because I’ve given birth to three kids. I don’t want us to end this way. And no, my husband is not cheating. I know the kind of man I married. He has his own shortcomings just like everyone else but cheating isn’t one of those shortcomings. He’s a domesticated man. He’s home or work or church. He doesn’t go anywhere that would make you think that he’s going to meet someone else. I need help because it’s not easy for me when I’m in the mood and this man doesn’t look at me

Source: Silentbeads.com

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Woman confesses that her spouse always defecates in bed as he’s ready to ‘cum’

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"I've been married for eleven months now. My spouse has had this problem since we started dating till now. The problem is that whenever my husband and I have sex and he is ready to cum and it is at its climax, he eases himself into the bed. "We've tried to get him to stop, but he always complains it's too sweet and he can't contain himself. As a result, we decided that he would always relax himself before we started having sex. "But he will continue to do it while cuming. I refused to give him sex while we were dating because it was horrible. I married him because despite it, he is a responsible, nice, and caring spouse."

A Ghanaian lady who is married to a “loving and responsible husband” is looking for help dealing with what she describes as “disgusting” sexual encounters with her spouse.

The married woman with two children has said that her husband always defecates in bed when he is at his height of ecstasy during sex.

Revealing her traumatic situation to Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3, she stated that she is considering quitting her eleven-month marriage because she cannot bear it any longer.

“I’ve been married for eleven months now. My spouse has had this problem since we started dating till now. The problem is that whenever my husband and I have sex and he is ready to cum and it is at its climax, he eases himself into the bed.

“We’ve tried to get him to stop, but he always complains it’s too sweet and he can’t contain himself. As a result, we decided that he would always relax himself before we started having sex.

“But he will continue to do it while cuming. I refused to give him sex while we were dating because it was horrible. I married him because, despite it, he is a responsible, nice, and caring spouse,” she narrated.

According to her, the situation is impacting her mental health because all attempts to settle her issue have failed.

“I’m going through a lot because it makes me puke; mentally, I’m breaking down. I’m not sure whether to quit the marriage because we currently have two children. I tried every possible solution to the problem, but nothing worked,” she said.

She is presently seeking assistance to deal with the circumstance, as the problem is harming her mental health.

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I prefer to masturbate than have sex with my husband – Lady shares ordeal

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She stated that she has always felt sexually unfulfilled after intercourse, therefore she chooses to masturbate to satisfy herself rather than having sex with her boyfriend. "Within two minutes, he had come. As a result, I avoid him and prefer to masturbate to satisfy my sexual cravings since, as soon as we start having sex, he has come and the item will stand," she said Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3.

A Ghanaian woman has expressed her sexual discontent with her spouse.

The lady, whose identity has been kept hidden, told Confessions on TV3 that her spouse never stays in bed for more than two minutes.

She stated that she has always felt sexually unfulfilled after intercourse, therefore she chooses to masturbate to satisfy herself rather than having sex with her boyfriend.

“Within two minutes, he had come. As a result, I avoid him and prefer to masturbate to satisfy my sexual cravings since, as soon as we start having sex, he has come and the item will stand,” she said to Ms. Nancy on Confessions on TV3.

Meanwhile, Life Coach Ebenezer Quaye, a guest on the show, encouraged lovers to share feedback to each other after participating in physical intimacy with their loved ones.

This, he argued, will inspire spouses to work on their sexual deficiencies.

“If you are having sex and do not receive feedback from your wife, there is a problem.” Wives should also provide feedback to their spouses. “It’s so nice and encouraging,” he commented.

He also gave some strategies for improving sexual shortcomings between lovers.

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How my husband sex trafficked me for 13 years

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When I was about 14 years old, one of my neighbours came over and invited me to a pool party. "It's going to be fun." She said. "Sure. "I would love to." I didn't have many friends, so it felt good to be part of something for once. I got my bathing suit and followed the girl. Before we arrived at the place, we encountered a small gathering of teens. There was one person who stood out from the crowd. He had everyone's attention, and everyone wanted to speak with him. My companion began heading towards them, and I followed her.

I learned that life was unfair at an early age, and in the worst way conceivable. My stepfather used to sexually assault me, and when I eventually had the bravery to denounce him, he received only three months of treatment as punishment and was allowed to live with me again.

My mother brought him back for financial reasons, but she kept us apart. They slept below, while we slept above. Nevertheless, I was traumatised and lived in terror. As if I hadn’t gone through enough pain, I met a man who I believed loved me and who sex trafficked me.

When I was about 14 years old, one of my neighbours came over and invited me to a pool party.

“It’s going to be fun.” She said.

“Sure. “I would love to.”

I didn’t have many friends, so it felt good to be part of something for once. I got my bathing suit and followed the girl. Before we arrived at the place, we encountered a small gathering of teens. There was one person who stood out from the crowd. He had everyone’s attention, and everyone wanted to speak with him. My companion began heading towards them, and I followed her.

“Hello, Greg. I invite you to meet my buddy Wendy. “Wendy, this is Greg.” She spoke to the guy.

Greg turned to me, smiled, and extended his hand before saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

At that point, my knees were weak. My heart began beating, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

“Can I get your number?” He asked.

“Sure,” I responded and handed it to him.

I didn’t expect him to call, but later that night he did, and we spoke for hours. That was the start of a relationship that led to my being sex trafficked.

Greg understood how to make me feel appreciated, which is all I wanted. We became amorous quickly, and I fell pregnant soon after. I had been under my mother’s care since I was 17 years old when I had my child. Greg demanded that I leave my mother’s house so that we could make our relationship work.

“How am I going to do that?” I asked.

“I’ve got a plan. You may relocate to a shelter, where they will consider you emancipated from your parents, and then you will be eligible for welfare checks, and we will be able to get an apartment and live happily ever after.” He explained.

At the time, it seemed like a fairy tale, and I was all in. I ran away from home, and Greg took me and my kid to a shelter. However, life at the shelter was not as easy as Greg made it appear.

It took long for me to receive my first welfare check, and I was running out of baby goods. So I contacted Greg and told him I needed money to take care of our child.

“Don’t worry, I have a job for us to do.” He said.

I assumed he meant cleaning people’s homes because that’s what he told me he did for money. So I picked up my kid and went to see him.

“What are we going to do?” I asked Greg.

“Well, you’re going to walk up this street, wait on that corner for a man to pick you up and you’ll have sex with that man in his car and he’ll pay you.” He explained without emotion.

I was perplexed and apprehensive, but he kept bringing up my daughter and insisting that if I loved her, I would do it. I felt like I had no option. My knees and hands shook as I proceeded to where he had instructed me to stand. As soon as I arrived, a car stopped in front of me, and the driver requested me to get in. That’s how my spouse started sex trafficking me.

“I know a place we can go in the woods.” He said.

I did not say anything. When we arrived in the woods, we both exited and walked to a private location where he began removing his clothing. I took off mine, we had sex, and he gave me the money before driving me back to where he had picked me up.

When I came out, I went to Greg, who was still standing in the same location and handed him all of the money.

“I love you.” I knew I had made the proper decision in choosing you as my wife. He said.

We went to purchase diapers and formula for the baby and had a little extra. However, a week later, we were out of diapers again.

That time, he encouraged me to take on two or three customers so that I might earn enough money to leave the shelter.

“Do you want your daughter to live in a shelter for the rest of her life?” He asked.

From there, he started one of the greatest prostitution networks in the region. It comprised four to ten females from various states. He sexually trafficked me for 13 years while I was still married to him. It varied from once a week to every other day, depending on how much money he received from the other females. I worked as a street girl, and escort, and made house calls. Not to add that I have two more children with him.

People continually questioned me why I stayed with him for so long, but no matter what I told them, they couldn’t comprehend what I was going through. Greg hooked us to drugs and physically abused us if we attempted to escape. He would also send the other girls to find any girl who had gone and beat her until she returned. I felt bonded to the other females since we weren’t permitted to have outside contact. So, anytime I managed to flee, I felt horrible and returned because I didn’t want them to suffer.

After 13 years, I was finally free of Greg. I had recently given birth and was in the kitchen making supper for us when I noticed police cruisers outside our house. The cops swooped in, arrested Greg, and detained me for interrogation.

However, I refused to talk to them because I was afraid Greg would beat me if he found out. Because I did not comply, they accused me of sex trafficking and sentenced me to 23 months in prison. Greg was also charged with sex trafficking and was sentenced to ten years in jail.

My children were removed while I was in prison, and because the judge in the custody case felt I was a sex trafficker, she promised that I would not be granted custody of my children. When I got out, I returned to school and earned an associate’s degree. In addition, I returned to the same judge who heard my custody case to request custody of my kid. I went with my attorneys, counsellors, and even the police officers who detained me to explain my situation to the court.

She returned my child to me, and I returned home to live with my mother, who sadly died later. Today, I feel comfortable and satisfied, which is a wonderful place to be. I’ve realised that there are individuals eager to help those who have faced the same hardships that I have, and if you’re going through anything similar, you don’t have to suffer alone or in silence.

This narrative is based on the Unfiltered Stories YouTube video.

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