Truth is I'm over 600 years old.I'm sure you're all reasonably confused, but we'll get to the problem of my age further on, but first lets get on to m...re pressing matters, namely my dessert. Charlie, my date, who looks good enough to eat herself, decides she wants tiramisu, and I already told you my preference. The waitress is polite enough when she makes her way back to us, but she should have been Maude Flanders for all the loot coming her way this evening. Thinking about my dessert makes me. I had IVs in at least one arm most of the time. I remembered how some of the nurses were kind and friendly while other liked to make fun of me and talk to me like I was a baby. I hated that!So I was extra careful with my little sister. I had her help me as much as possible. I explained what the baby oil and diaper rash cream were for and why we had to use it. I explained to her why we had to use several diapers and how to fold the inner ones and how to pin the outer ones correctly.I told Mrs.. I quickly realized there wasn't anything for me to help with, so I took a seat on a nearby couch, and Fred sat down next to me moments later.About fifteen minutes later, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. The shirt-dress girl was back, still holding the young boy she'd had in the cry room. Her eyes darted around the room, but then fixed on me. She smirked again, and kept walking to the kitchen, where the food for the reception was."Whoa buddy, you OK?", Fred asked. "You. As I have said, my first girlfriend was definitely an ejaculator, but I just didn’t know what it meant – or how lucky I was. It wasn’t till I was dating a woman in college that I truly understood. Our first encounter was a relative quickie (no sex, just some kissing) and I didn’t appreciate what was happening. Our second encounter took a little longer to develop and was worth the wait. We were doing homework together in her living room with her roommate and stealing casual glances, and.