My husband impregnated me, after he passed away

Hi Joe. Here is my story.

I married into a very religious family. I married a wonderful man, whom I thought I was going to spend my whole life with. Sadly my husband Chris was taken away from me far to soon. He had Osteosarcoma (a malignant bone cancer). We knew he was going todie. We were married for a year before he passed away. This disease made him unable to walk, let alone make love to me. So a few weeks before he died, it was his idea to freeze his sperm and have me artificially inseminated with it. A little while after his funeral I had the procedure done... It worked and I am 6 months along with a boy.

The reason this is a story I cannot tell Chris' parent's don't believe in artificial insemination. If they knew I am sure they would turn their back on my son. Right now they find it incredible that their son will live on, and they will love my son.

Chris was an only child, and I have every intention of giving my son Chris' last name. Actually I am going to name him Mac Christopher _____(Mac means Son of). I had to tell someone. I hope this is an appreciated story, it sure beats all the cheating spouse stories I think. Thanks for listening

My first lesbian experience.

For my birthday last month my boyfriend Kevin gave me a present I will never forget. My first lesbian experience. It might be more of a bi-sexual experience but whatever you want to call it, it was out of this world. I’m going to write this in two part. I’m not sure if that is allowed Joe but maybe you’ll allow me to tell my story.

Kevin had made dinner reservations at our regular spot at our usual table. After getting dressed up and having a little pre-meal cocktail at his place, we called a cab and headed out.
We arrived around 8 to a small line-up. The restaurant was busy as usual, people talking and eating and all seeming to be having a great time. The atmosphere was the main reason we fell in love with this spot from the beginning. The hostess greeted Kevin by name and guided us to our table by the fireplace. Kevin took my coat for me and pulled my chair out so I could sit. Always the gentleman, I could see other women watching and smiling. Kevin’s chivalry was the main reason I started dating him. He had a great deal of respect for women and it showed in his every move.

As I took my seat I noticed something a little different. There was an additional table setting. Usually our table was set for two but tonight there was a third set of utensils, another place mat and an extra set of drinking glasses. Kevin took his seat as the waitress came to take our orders. When she left I asked him why the third setting. He shrugged his shoulders and said it was obviously a mistake. I nodded and Kevin and I enjoyed the atmosphere and some small talk before dinner.

Dinner arrived and we enjoyed our fabulous meal. The drinks kept flowing and our conversations turned from life to marriage to our situations to love and on to lust. We revisited many different topics but we seemed to keep coming back to sex and sexuality. I have the feeling that the liquor played a major part that.

I had often talked about wanting to sleep with another woman with Kevin in the room. As any other man would, Kevin had no issues with this and in fact supported my desires. We talked about how we would meet another woman, how it might happen and all the things I’d like to try in the company of another female. The waitress came with a dessert menu just as Kevin was turning me on with his views of how a night with another woman might feel like. I was halfway hoping that the waitress heard our words, my imagination fuelled by the liquor and our sexy talk. Kevin asked me if I knew what I wanted for dessert and I blushed, thinking of kissing our waitress right on her full moist looking lips. I said I’d need a few minutes to decide and she left us alone.

Then he told me. He told me that the third place setting was not a mistake. He told me about how he had talked to the girl that we always saw at various parties and functions. Janet and I shared many a drink, talking about our lives and such. We had often used her as a visual aid while we had sex and now Kevin was now telling me how Janet was going to be joining us for some dessert. I felt my pulse race. My thoughts raced to kissing her and feeling her tongue in my mouth. I took a drink and tried to compose myself. Kevin was grinning ear to ear. I’m sure he had his doubts about setting this up and I was going to make sure to show him my appreciation during the night.

I caught sight of her as she walked in. Not that I wasn’t already staring at the door or anything! lol!
She was wearing a sexy little black strapless dress, matching black Ferragamo’s and a cute little purse. Her brown curly hair was in an up-do with a couple of seductive strands cascading down her face. She stood by the front door for a minute, scanning the tables. Then our eyes meet. She smiled, nervously put a strand of hair behind her ear and started walking towards us. Kevin has his back to her but he sees my face redden and my eyes sparkle. He turns just as Janet arrives at our table. He quickly jumps up and pulls out her chair. I can’t help but to sneak a closer peek at her legs as she sits.

Janet, Kevin and I exchange nervous, “Hello’s” while the observant waitress approaches. Janet orders a drink and Kevin and I order some blueberry cheesecake. Kevin blushes next as he asks for some whip cream, his eyes darting back and forth, from Janet’s ample cleavage, to her deep brown eyes, to my fingertips seductively tracing around the top of my glass, back to her cleavage and back to the waitress. Kevin was going be in for the time of his life and me? I was on my way to having not only my first lesbian experience, but also I was about to share an experience so memorable that I now want to share it to the world. Why is this story I cannot tell?

Kevin, my boyfriend, is a professional athlete and had been very married for the last five years. I’ll write the second part of my story in a little while. I’ve left enough for you to stew on. I’m sure I’ll get some nasty comments about how I am a home wrecker, however I have no problems looking in the mirror in the morning. This story is not about what I am doing but what I experienced when I had my first taste of another woman, my first lesbian, bi-sexual experience or whatever you call it. Please suggest another “name” for this encounter if “lesbian affair” is not appropriate. I am certainly not an expert in such terms.

Thanks for reading. I’ll write the rest of the story next Sunday if time permits.

We beat him and ran

We were supposed to go to a party and the guys' car we were going to go in broke down. The fucking beater wouldn't start. We did a quick money check and being all broke students we didn't have piss. I'm not sure who made the suggestion but we decided to call a taxi and do a punch and run.

We called a taxi and all four of us piled in the back. We told the cabbie to take us to a spot about a block away. We're all drinking 40's and laughing and then we get to the spot. The cabbie stop the car and my boy Rampage rabbit punches the guy in the back of the head and we all open the doors to run out. Rampage punches him a few more times and the two of us bolt out of the cab. We take off after the other two guys, the cabbie yelling at us to stop as he talks on his cell and the CB. 10 minutes later we are at the party getting our drink on. The party was dope.

I feel like shit thinking about it, but hey, the fucking raghead deserved it. Straight up. Coming to my country, taking our jobs and then blowing up our buildings and shit. I don't feel too guilty about it. Fuck them.

He killed the dog, totalled his car and damn near killed us.

My best friend and I were coming home from a party. We were both liquored up and neither us should have been driving. After a brief arguement about who was less hammered, he took the wheel.

It was all shits and giggles for the first twenty minutes or so. He was focused on the road as I was focused on rolling a doob, the tunes blasting . Then he tapped me on the shoulder, grinned and then stomped on the accelerator. His 86 LX was done up to the tits. Chirping through all the gears he was up to 100 before I knew it. I wasn't sitting quietly. Too busy hootin' anf hollerin' for him to go faster, booze and our hormones adding at least another 15mph. At one point we ran through an intersection and went airborne. It was fucking intense.

Until we hit the dog. We were probably doing about 80 when it appeared in front of us. I sure as shit didn't see it and I was looking wayyy ahead for cops or people or anything. It was after 4 in the morning and the streets were pretty vacant.

So this dog runs out on the street from a side street. My buddy tries to avoid it but at that speed there was no way he wasn't hitting this pooch. All hell breaks loose as he swerves to avoid Fido. Our back end slides out but not before the poor dog gets clipped in the leg and ass. One of the most vivid memories of the accident was the dog flying through the air.

We spun around about 300 degrees before hitting the first of three parked cars. My drunk-ass friend broke his wrist at this point, spinning the wheel trying to get out of the skid. He screamed like my neighbour's kid did when he was attacked by the swarm of bees. We then took out two signs, one row of newspaper boxes and one traffic light. We bend the light over at its base and the slid up the side of it like some kinda Hollywood stunt team or some shit. Writing this feels equally as intense as three weeks ago when it happened. The trippest thing I've ever been involved with.

We came to a stop in a cloud of airbag dust. My buddy is moaning about his wrist and I am trying to get the ringing out of my ears. Chris(not his real name) then tells me that we have to run. He's drunk, his daddy is the ADA and shit would go down if news breaks out. At this point I don;t give a damn about him, I'm thinking about the dog. I tell him that we need to check on the dog.

The dog was dead. The was a garage close to the street and the dog had hit it and got all smashed up. I felt like puking and Chris just walked around looking at his fucked up car and the dead dog muttering about all sorts of stuff like jail and his dad and something about getting his ass kicked. I puked a little inside my mouth, for real, then told him we needed to call someone. He said no fucking way and calls a taxi to a 24h laundrymat in the stripmall a couple blocks away. He tells me we'd call the cops and report the car stolen. Then he runs to the Stang, opens the trunk and grabs some tools. Nex thing I know he's pulling the ignition out and screwing with the wires outside his steering column. I laugh and know what he's doing. I grab my backpack from the back and when he's done, we book.

We use the payphone outside the mini-mart beside the luandrymat to call 911. Chris tells the cops about the accident, telling him he was driving and saw it happen. Our taxi comes and away we go.

I still remember the dog flying through the air and even worse, that I left it there. I own a dog and can't imagine knowing my dog lying somewhere dead.

We never got caught. I've changed enough details in this to ensure my safety. The thoughts in my mind from that night are more than enough punishment. That shit is for life.

I am obsessed with sex.

Well, most of you probably think, "Oh hell, he's a guy, of course he is!",but I beg to differ. I am absolutely obsessed with sex. I'm in my early 20's and living in the south. I've found myself to be bi-sexual. I am in a relationship, but I keep all of this from her. First off, I'm addicted to porn. I have been for awhile and look at it all the time. I masturbate a couple of times a day and I'm still not satisfied. I love looking at breasts and cocks, I love watching men cum and watching trannys have sex. I watch all kinds of porn, except the bizarre (scat, torture, etc). I can never watch the same movie twice, and usually skip most of the sex scenes and go straight for the money shots. Many times when a movie won't do I'll read stories, and the more hardcore the better. I love some of the fantasy stuff, but some of my favorites are just plain everyday sex situations. I probably know every major free story site by the back of my hand, unless there's a new one not on Google yet.

When both of these get boring I start calling phone sex lines. I prefer keen because I can surf the prices and get a good show cheap. I sometimes even call trannys (so they say) and live out fantasies with them since there's no such thing where I live. I've spent hundreds on these calls and always get off good with them. I wish they were local escorts too, because I'd spend thousands if so. I surf escort sites all the time looking for a new girl or someone visiting my area. The pickings are slim here and I do have standards if I'm going to be forking over money. I want a hot, big titted woman who'll take control and screw me silly. I wish there were more than 3 in the area, because those three are DOGS. I've even attempted picking up a couple of women at nearby stripclubs, but the clubs are horrible, have strict laws, and 95% of the women are hideous. This has yet to work, but I'll probably try again in a couple of months.

On top of this I'm courting two long time friends who are also in relationships. They both are up for random sex and discretion, and are also absolutely gorgeous (which is a plus for a guy with my looks). I'll likely end up hitting both of them up eventually (they live hours away). I've had cyber and phone sex with each and I can't wait to do the real thing.

Of course, women aren't my only fantasy, as you can tell. Many times I dream of being a woman and having my pussy stuffed with cock, being gangbanged,and being cum all over. I wish I could be cum all over now, even as a guy.I've met a few guys online through Squirt, but I am scared to death of STDs so I just don't do it anymore (I'd kill myself if I ever gave my woman anything, I've been lucky and will remain that way since I've given up men and unprotected sex). Truthfully, the taste and feeling of their cum in my mouth was heavenly. I wish I could have 10 or 15 guys shower me in it.
Unfortunately, I'm stuck though. A long term relationship, headed for the big hitch. Almost out of college, but can't get away from the podunkville I live and will probably end up living. I guess most of my fantasies will remain just that, but my obsession will never be cured. This is just a scratch on the surface, just a glimpse into my world.

Fuck, I'm fucked up. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

For the parents reading: Take it from my experience. Tell your kids about sex and don't let them secretly find out everything they can online about it and become obsessed. Just flat out tell them about it. And make sure they know it's not as big a deal as it seems. Fuck, if I'd had been told that when I was 14 or 15. Maybe I'd be somewhat normal instead of so fucking jaded.

God help me.


I fuck up the computers on purpose

I work for a pc repair company as a field tech. I purposely add keystroke loggers and even trojans to people's computers to make sure we get return visits. There is much more to the story but I need to head out to a call.

I am a horrible big brother

My little brother, Bjorn, who is a year younger than I has dependent personality disorder. He is clingy to me and only me. He has to sleep in my bed with me, he cannot be without me for more than a school day or else he will freak. He and I have always been close, best friends. But, I wish for him to go away.

It's not because I don't enjoy him being so dependent on me. I enjoy that very much. I love my Bjorn and I am starting to think it isn't brotherly love. I want him to go away because, every time I see him, these unbrotherly thoughts come into my head and I wind up feeling gross and guilty. If he were to go away, maybe I wouldnt have these thoughts and feelings anymore.
I love to watch him sleep. He is so pretty. I love when we are in a crowded place he holds my hand or arm. I really love it when he hugs me. I have never had a crush on a boy before. Just somehow my baby brother is different. He is just so perfect and wonderful.

But, I am so horrible! It's gross and wrong. I always cringe when he calls me 'brother'. He refuses to call me by my name which makes these thoughts of mine even worst. I am so very selfish for wanting him to be with me and only me. He deserves a wife and children. Once, I begged my brother to let me bathe him and he finally let me. I just wanted to touch him once and I have been feeling guilty about that ever since. I am a horrible big brother. I really enjoy those thoughts of him. How disgusting. I just hope my baby brother never figures it out. I am certain he would hate me.

Me and my ex

Ive been married for almost two years now. ive never had an affair, but i want to so bad it makes me crazy sometimes!!! it was weird one day and it almost happened. my wife was out of town on business and so i went to another city to go out to a club with a few friends (one of which was my ex g/f) we all got pretty trashed and then proceeded to one of my ex's friends house. there we continued to drink and laugh and talk about the good times.

i went to bed early because i had to drive home at 4 AM so i could be at work by 630 soon after my ex joined me on the floor in the second bed room, i pretended to be asleep. once she laid down she started to rub my hand and then my chest and then my crotch, the whole time i pretended to stay asleep. what made it even more akward was that her current boyfriend was asleep on the other side of her! if only i would have just not "stayed asleep" i would have a much more interesting story to tell. it was really hard not just rolling over and taking her right there on the floor, but i was just to afraid of waking up her boyfriend. maybe another time.

I worked in a lottery-scam boiler room

I can't tell anyone this because it is very embarrassing. I used to work the phones in a boiler room type operation. We would call hundreds of people a day and tell them they won the lottery and needed to forward a payment so the cheque would clear "customs".

Many people figured it was a scam and hung-up, but many many more fell for it. After working the scam for a couple week I had to quit. The guilt was killing me.
I was painfully reminded of my horrible past recently when my own grandmother fell victim to a similar scam. It made me want to curl up and die.

I secretly watch my roommate having sex

We have a common door between both rooms. He put a poster up on his side to block the windows, but I went in and put a tiny hole through the poster so I could look through to the other side.

He gets a ton of girls and I don't get many at all. I'm still a virgin.

I am getting some great pointers for when I do have sex for the first time. I have watched him have sex with at least twenty girls so far. I watch everything, from beginning to end. I usually end up playing with myself too as I watch.
I can't tell him or he'd kick my ass.

I have the perfect wife. Her 5 rules for my affairs.

This story belongs on TSYCT because I can't really brag about this to anyone. It's personal and about my wife so maybe you can post it joe?

My wife and I have been married for 4 years. We have had our ups and downs but through it all, we have been together. Strong you could say, even in moments of weakness. Anyways, I just changed careers and now work for Fed-Ex. My wife realized that I would be coming into contact with many more women now and as a result she has something very interesting to say to me before I start my first day at the job. This won't be verbatim but it'll be as close as I can get.

"Now you'll be coming into hot receptionists and the like. Women that have had fantasies about sleeping with the Fed-Ex man. Here's my rules.

#1- You can't have sex with them without me present.
#2- You can't make out with them. No passion, only lust.
#3- You must tell me all about it after.
#4- You must not lie at any time or it's over.
#5- You must wear a condom.

I know that men have desires. I might even want to shag the guy down at the shop that fixes my car. It's all about honesty. If you are honest, I have no problems with you fulfilling your sexual needs elsewhere. Again, you may not sleep with any other women, unless I am in the room as well. That is not negotiable.
Just remember to respect my wishes and I will grant yours."

Can you believe she said that????????????
I couldn't say anything the entire time she was speaking. My mouth was wide open the whole time. I couldn't in my wildest dream imagine she would say that to me. I sort of had my suspicious that she was a little more open minded than most. She is always watching sex shows on TV like the Sin Cities one. I watch it sometime too. Anyway, I guess she is a little more openminded that I imagined.

I don't nkow it I will ever act on this knowledge I have. It's nice to know the option is there. Gives me a bit more confidence.

That's my story. I hope you post it.

And you know my name is Simon

Happy Anniversary to TSYCT!!

Yes folks, it's been a whole year since I started this project. Seems like just yesterday!

Some highlights for me?

-Reading all the great stories from other people.(and some of the crappy ones too!)
-My 100,000th visitor.
-Having the first of many stories land on CollegeHumor and Fark and then watching as the traffic and submitted stories go through the roof.
-Having the Angelina story listed on Gawker
-Hate mail coming my way, written by people that don't agree with the whole anonymous concept of my blog.

And of course...Probably the most rewarding experience of the past year has been the ability for me to provide a spot for people to rid their closets of some ancient skeletons. I can't express just how much that has meant to me, especially given the comments I have recieved as a result.

That was the whole point from the beginning. As we get older and try to better ourselves, our past kepts holding us down. Stories we have deep inside our souls, that we couldn't tell anyone, now have a place to be put to rest once and for all.

This blog has been like therapy for many, and all those that have commented, you are like therapists of sorts. Yes, even you asshole dave...

So in closing, thanks to all of you that have come here, read and submitted your stories, and commented on others. Without your support, many would still be struggling with the demons that have haunted them over the years.

Keep sending your stories in...

Much respect and appreciation...


What a great birthday

Something strange happened and I had to promise not to tell anyone,it would be too messed up if people find out. I am 26 years old and from a country in Europe, I don't think it would be wise to give any more information...

It was my birthday on a Monday a couple of weeks ago. The weekend before we had a family reunion, not in my city but like 800km away. My girlfriend came with me to meet my family. She had to work on Monday (my birthday) so I took her to the airport on Sunday night. I had taken a day off for my birthday and wanted to meet a close friend and his girl who were living close to the place of the family reunion.

After I took my girlfriend to the airport and kissed her goodbye, I drove to my friends place but found out that he was on a business trip. His girlfriend, lets call her Linda, was there and we wanted to go out together. I would consider her my friend too, I have known her for a couple of years and we always had a good time together. We decided to go out for dinner even if it was pretty late already, something like 11:30 pm. The restaurant where we wanted go to was almost closed but Linda told them that it will be my birthday and we have to eat something and party. They made some food for us and we started drinking. At 12:00 Linda would start to sing Happy Birthday for me and it was not the last time this night...

After this restaurant we wanted to go a pub and Linda decided to show me the most fucked-up place in the city. It was so ugly but very cool, only homeless and drug addicted people were there. I think I didn't quite fit in there, as I was wearing some nice clothes and in general don't look like an alcoholic. We had a couple of beers, talked to a few guys who were weird but quite nice. I think at around 3:00am we decided to leave. In the next hour a lot of weird things happened, but they are not really important so I will just give a short summary. If anybody is interested I can elaborate more on that. Linda and me left, one weird guy was following us and wanted to show us some other places. Most places were closed because it was early Monday morning. We were in the red-light district and Linda went to a porn shop to buy a vibrator and promised me that it was meant as a gift for a friend. Whatever. The weird guy who was following us was annoying us so we tried to get rid of him. Linda faked kissing me and finally he got the message that we would like to be alone and he left. We did not really kiss, just rubbed our faces together but it still felt weird. This is the girl of one my best friends!

After this we went to a club but they were closed, too. The owner and the barkeeper were still inside and Linda convinced them to give us a drink because it was my birthday. They agreed and we had a great party of four, drinking some more and listening to all the music that we wanted in the empty club. At around 5:00am the owner told us we should leave because he would like to go home. Linda had at least one drink too much and I had problems getting her home because she could hardly walk straight. In the taxi she would move over to my seat and we started kissing. I knew it was wrong but it felt pretty good. When we arrived at her home I really was not sure what to do and thought about putting her in her own bed and go to sleep in the living room myself. This didn't really work, when I left the bathroom she was lying in the bed that was prepared for me in the living room.

I thought "what the fuck?" and we started kissing again. I was somewhat drunk too and don't remember all the details but somehow I undressed her and started to lick her. She was moaning like crazy and seemed to enjoy it a lot. After a couple of minutes she pulled down my clothes and demanded that I fuck her. I entered her and from this moment she became even wilder. We had the windows open and I think the whole street could hear her. We had great sex and after this fell asleep. After a few hours I woke up and she was still there, lying naked next to me. She looked so cute and I thought "ok, we already did it once, there is no harm in doing it again". I woke her up and we fucked again, this time we moved out of the bed and did it on the carpet. Bad idea, I got a bad abrasion on my knee while doing it and I think she got some as well. But at this moment we didn't care and the sex was fantastic again. She was moving so wild I really had problems staying in her. After I came in her again - we didn't use condoms - we fell asleep again.
We woke up at around 11:00am and what's the first thing you do when there is a naked girl next to you? Start to kiss her and fuck her from behind of course. We didn't talk very much after this, both were a little bit confused and also hungover. Later we agreed that we can not tell this to anybody because her boyfriend would dump her and never talk to me again. I left her appartment and went on the trip to my city. When I arrived my girlfriend called and asked me if I had a nice birthday party. Yes, that was certainly one of the best birthday parties I ever had.


I hope she doesn't tell

I graduated from high school a semester early, and spent my recently freed time loafing around my house, not working, drinking on weekends, and hosting "ditch" parties during the day. My mother, thinking that my older (responsible) brother could straighten me out, sent me to stay with him for a week at his school (I was to stay for a week and then ride home with him when he came home for break).

I was half excited about staying in a college town, but also, filled with dread at having to be subjected to my brother’s rule. He has always been too serious and goal oriented. For as long as I could remember my brother invested too much of his being worried about getting ahead, being the best, doing his best etc. So I stepped off the bus expecting the same Eagle Scout asshole, only to be met with a wooler and his fine girlfriend. We went to lunch, where it became obvious they weren’t getting on well, and then we dropped her off. My brother spent the next two hours or so giving me a tour of the town all the while he complained about his girlfriend (Laura). He loved her, he hated her, couldn’t break up with her, he wanted to sleep with other women. He had a wallet full of other women’s numbers.

My first night there I sat on the couch and watched TV while they fought in the bedroom. When their roommate finally came home he told he couldn’t stand to be there because all they did was fight. So we split and went to a party. When we got back at the crack of dawn there was a note left by Ozzie and Harriet, everything was O.K., they were sorry. The next day after Laura got out of school she told me that she was to entertain me while my brother was in class and at work. We ran around all day and I couldn’t believe that my brother could want anything other than this beautiful and fun woman. I definitely had a serious case of fatal infatuation. That night my brother taught me how to play all of the drinking games I would ever need to know, and then we went party hopping (already trashed). Around one in the morning they got into a fight, and of course, we had to go back to their apartment.

Once we were back in the apartment they fought for about 15 minutes and then Laura came out. She and I tore into the remainder of the booze while my brother snored like a horse in the bedroom, and their roommate came home and puked all over the hallway (then proceeded to lay in his own vomit, refusing to wake up). As we drank I didn’t spend my time thinking about how much I liked her, as I had before. My thoughts were honestly stuck on how cool the college scene was. When I was about done in, unable to walk, or speak intelligibly, I laid back on the couch preparing for the ensuing coma. She didn’t say anything she just laid right next to me. I loved the smell of her perfume, and I still do. We talked like that for about 45 minutes, then she sat up and looked at me, and we started kissing. One thing led to another and I performed like a high school boy. We fought our clothes off, and then within minutes of being inside of her, I ejaculated (where was this rumored "whiskey dick"?). We were dressed just in time for my brother to come out and start bitching at their roommate. I faked sleep, she staggered in to help clean up the mess. As drunk as I was, it took me hours to actually get to sleep. I felt shittier than I ever had, but I was also thrilled with the memory of what had just happened.

The next day we drove into the city, 3.9 of the 4 hours they fought. The whole trip was a miserable waste. I was wondering if she even remembered, or if it was just me. While I did feel appropriately shitty, I couldn’t have been happier at the same time. That night after they fought all the way home, they went right into the bedroom, and I laid down to get to sleep. I felt bad about nailing my bro’s girl, but I felt even worse because she acted like it never happened. Then she came out and threw a goodnight kiss on me that had me glowing the rest of the night. They left for school while I was faking sleep, (sneaking peeks at her as she walked through the living room). After a couple hours she came back with the same task of entertaining me. She got all kinds of serious and made me promise never to tell a soul. So naturally I thought that our fling was over, I was crushed and relieved, but she took me into their roommates room, and taught me what to do with a woman,in every way possible. We wore the sheets out the whole day. We had sex one more time after that day, and then she pulled the plug. We couldn’t ever do it again, her guilt was getting to her, and mine was killing me . We decided to end our tryst then and there. I just wondered how long after they broke up would I be able to slide in on the scene. What time limit is tacky in that situation?

I rode home with my brother, and the entirety of the time I thought of Laura. I had to fight my mouth because all I wanted to talk about was Laura. When we got home I avoided my brother because I felt so shitty all the way around. So about two nights before my brother is due to leave, he sat my mother down and told her that he had met a woman and they were serious. I was floored, panicked, and miserable. My brother left and I did my best over the next 5 years staying away from him and Laura. I was able to avoid their wedding, although my brother wanted me to be a one of the groomsmen.

No big deal. I have never told this story anywhere but here, right now. We live and we learn, and I am constantly reminded of my shitty act. But, that’s not even the hard part of the complete ordeal. I never would have slept with her if I would have even thought for a minute they were going to last. Now I have to see her all the time, since they have moved within two hours of me, both of us living about an hour from our mother’s house. It took me about a year to stop constantly thinking about that woman. My wife is better looking than she is. She’s smarter than she is, and we have a lot of fun. The problem is that every time we are all together Laura’s perfume drives me crazy, and I can’t help but to reflect on our tryst. My brother says things along the lines of Laura not being into freaky sex, and I can’t help but to feel a crushing jab, knowing that she is a total freak. I can’t look at Laura without thinking of being inside of her in every possible way. I catch her looking at me and I know she thinks of it as well. We have never even mentioned it to each other, even when we have been alone. I know I can take this story to the grave, and will, but I live in constant fear that she will one day tell my brother.


My affair with a student.

When I watched that Dateline special last week on Debra LaFave, the teacher than slept with one of her students, I was brought back to ten years ago when I too had an affair with one of my students. She was young, intelligent and very attractive. My situation was different from the teacher in question, as I made the decision to quit teaching as a result of the conflict. While our affair never became public knowledge, I didn't want to ruin my reputation or the future of my lover. After I left teaching, we continued our affair until he moved away to college.
Looking back I question my decisions to not only have the affair with a student in the first place, but to then give up the career that I had worked so hard to build for myself. Employed in the health care field, I find it comforting to be able to take care of people, however I would much rather be teaching. I miss it.

My ex-wife (NSFW)

I don't know how other divorced guys feel about their ex., but in my case she was a real bitch. She was skinny with little tits (32A) and kind of a prude. She did, however, have one thing about her that I can't forget, even after 12 years. She was a great fuck. It wasn't that she was good at sex, actually she was great at "getting fucked". She loved getting played with for hours. I would finger her, suck her nipples and eat her through orgasm after orgasm.

A typical evening would be a bottle of champagne, which was 2/3 consumed by her; a bath; and then slipping naked between the sheets to fall into a relaxing sleep. She always said that it was best when she could relax, and getting drunk on champagne really relaxed her. I would lay next to her until she was sleeping, and then roll her on her back. If she didn't wake up, I would start to suck her nipples, and play with her pussy until she got wet. Then I would go down and lick her pussy until she started to squirm. As she slowly woke up, she would try to get away, and so I would hold her wrists, pulling her arms under her ass. She hardly ever said anything,
except to moan softly. If she did speak, she usually whispered "tie me up". I would stop eating and tie ribbons around her wrists, and then tie the ribbons to each other, this way I could tie her hands behind her back, or over her head, or even loop the ribbons over the post on the headboard.

After she was tied up, I could and did fuck her all I wanted. We usually ended up with me on my knees on the bed, I would be holding her by her little ass and lifting her up and down on my cock, while I sucked her little titties. her arms might be around my neck or still tied behind her back.

Like I said, she knew how to "get fucked", and I always found different ways to fuck her.
I still remember the last time I fucked her. It was right before I moved out for good. She knew things were about over, and I wasn't coming home much. but this last time, I stood in front of her in the family room, and she was looking at me and so I reached out for a button on her blouse. I still can't figure out how she got naked as fast as she did. Before I knew it, she was on her back on the carpet, and moving her hips taking my hard cock in and out of her pussy as I pulled and pinched her nipples really hard. Eventually, I bent her over the front of the recliner, and fucked her from behind. I grabbed her arms just above the elbows, and pulled her up so her back was arched as I fucked her hard from the rear. When it was over,she said it was the most powerful orgasm of her life.

I moved out the next day. Other than this, my life with her really sucked and I'm glad it's over. But, once in a while when I'm in the shower, I think about fucking her, and wish that maybe I could do it just once more.


I've been fucking the dog.

You know the saying right? Well I've been getting my work but not even doing it and still handing in the paper work. I go in to the office, grab my work orders for the day then leave like normal. Only instead of doing the actual work, I go home and look for another job. My job sucks and the pay is suckier. I hope to find a new job before I get caught.

I'm A Terrible Person pt. 2

This is a follow-up to the "I'm a Terrible Person" submission. It's been almost exactly a year to the week from the events as I submitted them beforehand. And something stunningly weird has happened.
I've met someone new. I don't know where it will go from here, but that's beside the point. We've been together a few times, and last night we got around to talking about school, and why she chose this one. She said that she was trying this school out for a year, and if she didn't like it, then she'd switch schools.

"Really? Where would you go?"
"xxxx (Province)"
"No Way? What school?"

It was the same school. The same school that I had gone to. I just stopeed dead in my tracks for a minute, dumfounded. Nobody goes to that school, I was one of three people from my state that went last year. It's impossible, really. Statistically impossible. Think about it. One year later, to the week, I get involved with someone who is planning to go to the same school where I had, well, a life changing experience to say the least.

When I was in the hospital, I swore I felt something compelling me to go on, to live. It was then that I got the idea in my head to go to this school, or another just like it. It felt, as I was lying on that bed, that a slow, amniotic fluid slowly rose over my body, revivng my poisioned body. I can't say I'm religious, I've never attanded a service of any kind. To be frank, I have trouble believing in an overarching power
controlling my life.

Something doesn't add up, though. I came here to hide away, to live out my life quietly, modestly. I came here to forget. One year later, her,everything. The whole situation gives me goosebumps.

Damnit, I find it impossible to believe this is coincedince, even though I want to.


We have an agreement

My wife and I have been happily married for over thirty years and we have an agreement . We both love each other very much but acknowledge that there may be others that we are sexually attracted to. So, we agree that if we see someone else that we'd like to have a sexual encounter with, we just need to talk to each other first before it happens. This way, our trust won't be broken.

I used to think this "agreement" we had was more fantasy than reality until last month. I was waiting for an elevator in the lobby of a large apartment building, on my way up to sign some papers, when an attractive blonde started talking to me about how long the elevator was taking. We talked back and forth until the elevator arrived. Both of us got on and selected our floors. As I was watching the numbers climb, I caught her checking me out. Just as she was taking a good look, I turned and asked if she liked what she saw. She blushed and said. "yes. very much so."

So I asked her what she was doing in an 1/2 hour. She said she was only going to be taking a shower.(She had just got in from a long walk). I asked her if she needed someone to wash her back for her. She smiled, blushed some more and then said she did need the help.

That's when I told her that I needed to call my wife first. She looked shocked at first, then a mysterious and sexy look came over her face. I checked my phone and saw it had a few bars of signal so I called home and told my wife what was happening. I told her that a hot woman was checking me out and wanted me to come back to her place. My wife asked to speak to her. I handed the phone to the woman and watched her facial expressions as she talked to my wife. Her face turned even redder and I watched as a devilish but sexy smile appeared on her pretty face.

We arrive at her floor. She says, "Thank-you" to my wife and then hands the phone back to me, saying,"I'm in 2502. Walk right in in 15 minutes"

I smiled and told her I would as the doors closed. I put the phone to my ear and asked my wife what she was saying to her. My wife says that she told her that she could do everything but sleep with me. She could give me oral sex, I could go down on her, we could do almost anything we wanted, but if she really wanted to sleep with me, she'd have to come to our house and do it in front of her. As my wife is telling my this, I fall even deeper into love with her.

I tell her i love her, she tells me to be safe and we hang up. Fifteen minutes later, after taking care of the paperwork, I returned to the 25th floor. I stand in front of the door for a couple of seconds before mustering the courage to walk in. I grab the doorhandle and let myelf into this strange woman's apartment. I notice it is clean and organized, with funky retro-looking furniture. It looks like I am caught in a time-warp. I feel like I am eighteen again.
I hear the shower running, so I cautiously follow the sound and find myself in the master bdrm. The mystery woman is in the ensuite having a shower so I make my way towards her.

I speak to her through the curtain.
"You don't have a husband or boyfriend about to come home, do you?" I say semi-serious. She responds with a laugh and peers around the shower curtain. She looks hotter now, her wet hair dripping on to the tiles. "No, I am single and live alone. Why don't you take off your suit and tie and join me?"

That was the end of my nervousness. I quickly shed my clothes, slide the shower curtain back and step in. For the first time I see her nice round breasts and her great ass. She is nicely trimmed and I can see her swollen lips. I spend the next minute getting myself wet, while we check each other out. We haven't touch yet, just looking.

Now we both are soaking wet. I reach out to her and rub her nipples. She does the same to me. Then we start exploring each other's bodies, me rubbing her firm breasts, while she strokes me and makes me harder. After a few minutes of our exploring, we have come closer together. I kiss her neck as she moans and strokes me harder. My hand travels over her back and over her ass, feeling it tense as I pull her closer. I slide my hand around and touch her, getting harder as I feel the water cascading over her swollen lips. I find her clitorus instantly and caress it, as she bites into my shoulder muscle. We remain like that, my rubbing her, her moaning, stroking and biting on to my shoulder muscle.

Suddenly she grabs my hand, separates two fingers and then plunges them inside of her wetness. I eagerly oblige and push them in and out as she grabs my wrist to help. Seconds later I feel her orgasm on my fingers, he body twitching and her voice quivering. She takes my fingers out and quickly puts them in her mouth.

This puts me over the edge. I push her down on her knees and aim the showerhead so that it hits her rear. I take myself and guide it to her mouth, where she starts sucking and licking me. She's got one hand between her legs rubbing, the other hand is massaging my full balls. I can already feel it happening after only a few minutes. I brace myself against the hot shower tiles as she sucks on me. An unfortunately short time later I tell her that I am going to cum. She rubs my balls faster and takes a few hot shots in her mouth before pulling me out so that I can cum on her tits. I explode like I haven't in years. We finish showering off without saying many words. She walks me to the door, where I give her my number and tell her that if she wants to continue this, she's more than welcome to come over for a dinner party with me and my wife. she smiles, gives me a kiss and tells me she'll call.
As I sit here writing this story out, I am having amazing flashbacks. It was so exciting, so daring, so sexual and so erotic. She never did call, but my wife and I weren't disappointed. We had a sex story we could bring up and think about and both of us would get very turned on.

So why can't I tell everyone I know about this story? Why have I come to this blog to tell a story I cannot tell?

Simple. I am a major player on Capitol Hill. Major enough that if word of this got out, there would be a major issue. That's all I am willing to say.

Somebody please help me find him

I recently returned home to Maine from a week long jaunt to Wildwood, New Jersey. One day while I was at the beach with my husband and son, I met eyes with a Canadian man who took my breath away. It may have been my imagination but I do believe the attraction was mutual. He gave suttle hints of his interest in me, or so I think he did. At one point, the tide came in forcing my family and his to move our blankets and chairs back. My family moved first and I was bummed because I was further away from him. I was so excited when he began moving his beach stuff closer to us, or me.

He landed his chair about a foot away from mine and I had to physically restrain myself from reaching out to him. I wanted, needed to touch his body. I was on fire with desire. He proceeded to wade through the water and I followed. I stayed close behind him as we went deeper and deeper. He then spoke to me. He pointed out dolphin that were playing in the water ahead of us. His voice was deep and very sexy. I stood so close to him and my breath quickened. I had planned on discreetly touching him. His hand, his back. I wanted him to know he was affecting me and I hoped for him to respond. Ever since that day, I've been plagued with constant thoughts, fantasies about him. I think about him night and day and it is driving me insane. I don't know his name and only know he is from Canada.

I would give anything to make contact with him. In kick myself in the ass for not being forward thinking and perhaps slipping him my email address or cell phone number. Had I, I am sure we would be corresponding, which would be highly satisfying for me. Ofr course, I'll never find him. So I'll be forced to continue dreaming about touching his body, kissing him passionately, fucking him over and over. My body is in a constant state of arousal for him. This goes beyond any crush I've ever had.

If anyone has any suggestions as to how I might find this man, please share!

No man has ever had this affect on me. Somebody please help me find him. My body needs him. Respond with your thoughts.


I sold drugs to inmates

After a few years of doing it I have recently stopped. I was only trying to get some extra money at first. Our house was going to be taken after we spent too much on repairing the roof and the hot water tank and furnace. We just over-extended ourselves and then ended up in a bad state so I brought in some coke for a con I knew from the outside before he was locked up. I was going to stop after the first few times but I could not. the money was too good. I have stopped doing it now though. I didn't think my career was worth it. I can say that I'm not surprised that many C.O's deal stuff to cons. It's not like we get paid very well.

I feel very uncomfortable

I got a big ass hump on my nose.. and nobody at my works knows it.
I got long hair and it helps me hide it.. whenever i see someone about to stare at me from the left or right direction I either turn around or hide it with my hair.. and somehow nobody ever knows about the hump they watch me from the front only.

I just feel unconfortable .. and im planing on having a nose job.. very soon
Im earning money ..


What the hell is going on

Tonight started when I called up my friend to hang out, but my mindset started two days before, when I had gotten completely trashed. From when I woke up, to the writing of this, it feels like my hangover never left. The headache left, but I'm having trouble focusing. It's like my mind is operating in a glass jar. I try to speak, such as when I called my friend,and my points become muddled and I spout non sequitors.

Anyway, I chill out at his house, and we leave to drop his car off at the garage. we rent a movie, and see a friend at the movie store. It's like watching a movie, all my moves are choreographed in advance.

Fuckin a, I'm doing it again. Back on course

The movie we watched was Jarhead. First time I had seen it. Long story short, it made me realize what was fucking wrong with me. Nothing has ever happened in my life. Life has happened, but I don't like it. I hate what I was in middle school and high school, some quirky, geeky little kid. But nothing major has happened. My parents were divorced when I was in sixth or fifth grade. maybe it was fourth. That is the story of my life. I was an average student, I played a fair amount of sports, but nothing has fucking come of it.
I just don't know what to do. Like that guy in Jarhead, I'm going insane from lack of action. I left my friend's home tonight, and took the long way home. Stopped at a 24 hour gas station, and put sixty bucks into my fucking tank. That's a full 8 hour work day, just to buy some fucking explosive liquid. Took the long way home, took the backroads, and I don't remember controlling the wheel. I just didn't give a shit. I didn't want control of the car, I wanted to revel in being on the edge. Bounding up the road at 95, squeaking around corners, I just didn't give a shit. Everytime my mind took my foot off the gas pedal, something in my body pushed it back to the floor.

I came to a stop at the four way before my house. I can't focus, I havn't been able to focus all weekend. I asked myself what the fuck I was doing and couldn't come up with a reasonable answer. Took the turn and brought it up to 70, and knew where I wanted to go. It wasn't home. Took the jeep up to what I guess could be called a lookout point. Thankfully, I was alone up there. took a beer out of the back and got up on the hood of my car.

I was looking out into touristville, Maine, securely nestled between two lakes. I didn't see it, though, because I had seen it hundreds of times before. I knew what was there. I only intepreted shapes, darkness and light, the moon waxing silver off the surface of the lakes.

I just sat back and stared up at the stars. The Perseid meteor shower was making it's last appearence for the year, and I felt like the only person paying attention to it.

Just what the fuck was I doing up here? What the fuck am I doing with mylife? WHY THE FUCK AM I TALKING TO MYSELF!?

That's right, because I'm all alone. At the end of the day, I'm all alone. If I had someone to share this with, I would be fine. All I have to trustis the intuition inside my head, and it has never steered me correctly.

I must be going crazy, because that's the only reason someone would careen down country roads and wind up on a hill, holding a beer and looking out over a beautiful countryside he despises. So if I am crazy, how did I get here? Why am I crazy? I? I don't even know who the FUCK I am. Looking at the stars, watching satellites pass over I try to focus on that question I can't focus, I can never focus.All I know is that I hate who I am. I hate who I was in the past. I was okay with who I was as a child, but that never lasts.

I hate everything up to this point. I'm only 19, and I hate what the fuck has happened. I wish i could erase it from my memory and start again. I just want it all GONE. everything. sucking up at baseball as a kid, sucking up at soccer as a kid, fucking up my first three relationships, being a stupid fucking geek in middle school. I recently found all the star wars books that I read as a kid and wanted to throw them all in a fire and shoot myself for being that fucking stupid.
I just want to get out of here. I know that if I can get out of here, I can be okay. I'm looking at these lights, and know that there are thousands of second homes down there. Rich fat bastards with their boats and camps and mercedes. Payments, kids, mind numbing television and junk food. I don't want that, and I'm surrounded by it. I don't want a god damned thing. I want to get the fuck out of this depressing, elitist, motherfucking alpha dog existence called the american dream. I woke up from the dream long ago. Everyone's fucked in their own way. It's selfish to say, but I don't want anything to do with it.
I want out.

I may be on the right track, there, going to a maritime academy. My one respite comes under sail, on the ocean. Endless ocean, endless possibility. Maybe I'll join the peace corps after school, get the fuck into the real world. Not the "Welcome to the real world, Here's your office, bitch", I can't live in this god damned inaction cleverly disguised as action. Fuck that. I need to get out of here, or I'll completely go insane.

Riding along that road, I got tunnel vision when I hit 95 and 100. I wasn't afraid of losing control, hitting the woods and wrapping around a tree. In fact, I was secretly hoping to hit that hidden bump or slick of oil that would fuck me over one last time.

If this means nothing to you, I don't give a shit. I was hoping thatwriting this out would help some, but I feel nothing, and doubt hitting that "send" button will change that. I'm too clusterfucked to unwrap in one email. It's midnight, and I have four days left at my summer work. I just want to keep fucking dreaming, because dreaming is easy.

Under the blankets, in an airplane. Beat that!

It was on the plane ride back from this place we went to.

With whom? A friend I met at camp. We were kind-of strangers, but knew each other by name. Kind of.

It was a three hour flight to our transfer flight, we the two of us started cuddling. I stuck my hand up her shirt and started feeling her up. The assholes sitting in the seats next to us stared, so I stared back and they stopped staring. She got wet, so I started rubbing her crotch area.
She started breathing harder, so I slid my hands down her pants and fingered her until she came. Like four times. Shaking like crazy. I had to restrain her and keep her quiet. Lol.
Under the blankets. In an airplane. I know it's nothing like stealing cars, but still. Beat that.

-Common Sense

Never again.

I met this internet slut once. Met her in a chat room and then in person. She was hot and we started getting to know each other. She was branded with "SS". When I asked her what it meant she told me "Sex Slave".

So of course we started banging on a regular basis. She ends up being a total freak and she LOVES anal sex.
One night we were going at it when she tells me to put it in her bum again. So I slap on the rubber and plow her. When I pulled out a short time later it looked just like a melted Oh Henry bar. In all the times previous I had never seen such a mess. Sure I'd see the odd hitchhiker on the pull-out, but never such a nasty mess.

The worst part of this story is that I go to the washroom to clean up and in she trots, sits down on the crapper and proceeds to take a dump right beside me.

I look over at her and she's checking the wad for debris and shrapnel. Sick.

As a result of this experience, I will never have anal sex again.

Send in your stories

I've gotten to the point where I have told most of my stories. While I created this blog so that I could get my stories off my chest, hundreds of you have sent in your own personal stories and confessions for the world to read. With your support, my blog has seen almost 1 million visitors and had over 300 stories posted in the short time it has been around. Thanks!

Now I need your assistance.

Is there a story you cannot tell that you've been contemplating telling?
Now's the time.
Something that you want to confess but didn't have a place to hear feedback about your confession?
Here's the place.
Perhaps you know of someone else's story and want to tell it?
Send the story in.

I'm working on some strategies to get more people here and hopefully that will mean more stories. It's all up to you regular readers...Send those stories in!

My mother grosses me out

I can't stand my mother. She is a fat, gross, miserable woman. She wants to have this close relationship with me and can't understand why we aren't close. I would never tell her the real truth but I am so embarrassed by her. She always wants to take me to dinner or do something with me and all I can think about is how gross she will look sitting across from me at a restaurant slopping down her food. She farts in public as she walks and thinks it's funny. She is lazy and would rather live out her life on the couch. She only talks about herself and her aches and pains. She is never interested in anyone (me) or anything they have to say. She is a selfish, overindulgent bitch that wants everything handed to her so life can be easy. She doesn't want to work for anything but wants to be recognized for everything. I hate her and she makes me sick and I always feel so guilty about it.

He can't last forever...

My husband is an insecure, jealous, passive-aggressive control freak with strong OCPD tendencies. He oversees and approves of anything and everything in our home, our lives and our social contacts. If I have a differing opinion of something (such as his placement of a vase of flowers, or the way he has hung a picture on the wall, or his choice of flowering plants for our patio pots), he will become silently infuriated, and be sullen. If I downright disagree with him (", I don't care for those flowers...") he can become openly hostile, petty, vindictive, and will meanly mock and mimic me.

I am made to feel like I'm abandoning my 11 year old daughter if I make arrangements to meet a friend for dinner or see a movie - so most of the time I don't / won't go. When I have gone out in the past, he'll "go after" our daughter, rattling demands to her in a monotone voice, in rapid-fire sequence - demanding she clean her already too-clean-to-be-true bedroom, criticizing her school work, questioning her clothing choices, etc., so that a night out with the girls is just plain not done. Our daughter knows her dad isn't "normal", but she loves him, and she generally tries to keep her disitance from him . If he knows I've tried to make plans, he will make every attempt to sabotage them in a seemingly innocent way ("...I ate something funny at lunch... now I don't feel well... not up to caring for our daughter tonight...." or he will simply not have time to call me and "unexpectedly" work late).

He doesn't care for my few friends, and he has been very successful in keeping me isolated. Moving state-to-state with his company via his promotions hasn't helped, either. Weekends are always spent TOGETHER - if I were to say to him "hey, I'm running out to the mall for an hour or so..." will send him off on a cleaning and organizing frenzy. Either that, or he'll say he needs something, and wants to go, too. He hid all of his weird behaviors very, very well before we were married. He was insistent that we marry a few months after we met, (now I know why...) and I was swept away by him - he gave me thoughtful gifts, lavished me with attention - I was so impressionable, and I swallowed it hook, line and sinker. He gets uncomfortable when men glance at me, and lets me know it ( ...lets get out of here...).

Counseling? Forget it... he has no problems... I'M THE PROBLEM, according to him, because I'm "so particular"!

Leave? I'm disabled, and I need my many medications, which cost over $1,000.00 per month. BTW, his mother is the most domineering, manipulative, controlling, vindictive woman I have ever seen. I met her right after we were married... she offered to slap me across the face because I had a difference of opinion with her!

My only saving grace may be the fact that he is about 75 pounds overweight, his diet consists primarily of red meat, french fries / potato and Diet Coke / whole milk. And a whole lot of cakes, cookies, candy, snacks & crap. Seriously, that is his preferred diet: red meat, potato, sugar & salt. He can't last forever...

How to steal a Chevy

I've already posted stories on how to steal VW's but now I am going to confess about stealing Chevrolet's. This also works for Pontiac's too, and pretty much any other GM car that has a tilt steering lever on the right side of the steering column.

This is a story I can't tell because I'd get arrested so I guess it qualifies for this blog.

First gain access to the Chevy. I used to pop the whole keylock out of the door with a flat head screwdriver. Takes a bit of work, much better to find a chevy with an open door.
Once inside, snap off the tilt steering lever on the side of the steering column. Don't break off the turn signal level, not having them later will be very heaty.

Once you break off the lever, remove some of the surrounding plastic with some pliers or something, you'll expose a saw-looking peice of silver metal. It will have jagged teeth facing up. That is the lever that will start the car.

Pull out everything else in there. You'll have to do some ripping out with the screwdriver. You'll find a black spring inside, that triggers the steering wheel lock.

If you remove enough stuff, the steering will unlock. If not, you'll have to put some effort into it.

The best way to break the steering lock is to turn the wheel until it locks and can't turn anymore. Then put your feet on the wheel and kick as hard as you can. After a few hard kicks, the steering wheel will turn. Now turn the wheel in the other direction and do it again until the steering lock breaks. Now you can drive.

Reach up and move that saw-toothed metal level and the car will start. That is your new key. Once you drive away, quickly find the exact same color and model car, then switch both front and rear license plates. This will buy you a day.

Within the first 36 hours of a car being reported stolen, it goes on the hotsheet. After the third day you can go driving in public, just be careful you don't get in an accident!

Some guy in some city that used to steal people's cars.

A story in progress that I cannot tell

I was going to start a web blog to keep track of this new adventure I am embarking on. After thinking about just how much work would go in to building a web site and maintain it, I realized that there is no way I have the time to do all that.

So I am going to tell my story here. The story I can't really tell anyone. Not a confession, only because I haven't done anything wrong. Yet.

I have been married for nine and a half years and have three children. Our marriage started out fine then gradually got worse when my husband decided to join the Army after what happened on 9/11. My husband was personal friends with three people that died in tower collapses. Needless to say, he was deeply affected by the attacks and felt the need to enlist.

I supported him at first but now realize that he is over in Iraq, fighting a war with people who he has no quarrel with. He is over there risking getting killed, all because Bush wanted more oil control. I could go on, but this is not about my husband, the Army or Bush.
This story is about how I am in the process of having sexual reassignment surgery. I've always thought myself as a man, although marriage and children were something that I had to do at the time.(Religious family, unwanted pregnancy, abortion not an option) I guess you can say that I am a living contradiction.

Before I was married I had often thought about getting a sex change. As a child I was always playing with other boys and never with the girls. Most of my friends were boys, I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I had growing up. I was dressed like a boy as a infant and small child and when I start dressing myself, I found that I felt most confortable in male clothing.

As the years passed I became more and more unhappy with my sexuality. Then I met my husband and for a year I found myself very confused. I ended up getting pregnant and then the marriage happened and then more kids.

Now that he has been gone for such a long time, I have had the time to do some serious soul-searching. While he is off trying to save the world, I am here with our kids trying to save myself.

I realize that I am still a boy trapped in a girls body.

I am researching how I can get the operation done. I am trying to figure out how to get it done before he gets home. I figure he won't be able to talk me out of it. He'll have to either accept the new me, or leave me. I would love it if he could understand but I don't think he will. The kids will be confused but I know they will love their Mother no matter what gender I am. It's what's inside that counts right?

So there it is. I am going to get this operation done. I will post more of my story as it unfolds. I welcome all comments both good and bad.

I'm just a terrible person.

It was about a year ago, a few weeks after freshmen orientation. I was getting drunk, of course, because it was the weekend. I'm sure you know the average dorm party, so I'll cut to the chase. She and I were making out in my room, going at it for a while. fueled by too much alcohol, my I started to roam, squeeze, and do things I really shouldn't have done. She said something about having to go to a soccer game tomorrow, needing to sleep, I fired back with 'just a few more minutes". After, again, squeezing what I shouldn't, things begin to get hazy as I put her necklace back on, she goes out, and I roam the halls for a while.

A student council comes, finds me, and brings me to his room. Having sobered up, I realize what had happened.

"You really scared her, man"

I didn't sleep at all that night. Not one blink. How could I, when my guts were tearing themselves apart from agony and guilt?
I walked around like a zombie the next day, I swear I could hear everyone whispering about what had happened, though the council swore he had kept it confidential. I was working on an assignment that afternoon, trying to get my mind clear, when an RA knocked on my door, telling me I had a meeting with the Life Director later
that day.

"Will I be able to stay?"
"I really can't talk about that."

It was a quick meeting between the three of us. I was miserable,going on about how I couldn't believe I did it, the assistant was staring into space, and the LD was, well, professional about it. He explained what would happen, going through the disciplinary board or something, I really wasn't listening. I knew I'd be kicked out
of the dorms, and that's something I couldn't handle. To have that go through the community at home- that I was kicked out for sexual assault- I just couuldn't let that happen.

So I trie to take the cowards way out. I walked out from the meeting, across the street, and bought an assortment of pills, and a lot of them. I got back to the dorm, and washed them all down with half a fifth of whiskey.

It didn't work, and I woke up as my roomate was coming in the door.

"Man, I feel like Death"

"Joe, get an RA"

the resulting trip to the hospital, the call home, the hallucinations, pumping of my stomach, all was like a dream. I still don't know if I've awaken from it, yet.

My family took me home, where I was completely unsure of what step to take next. I never told them why I trie to commit suicide, but they wern't really shocked by it, as I had tried it once before.
They assumed I was too far from home and couldn't handle it. Maybe that's true.
I'm back in school, now, pursuing an alltogether different education. It was a rare night that I can fall asleep without thinking of what I did, helpless to stem the flood of memories, how I fucked up so badly. I recently wrote an email the the LD, telling him as much, that I felt so guilty, ashamed, and angry at myself.
That it was all my fault, that I was the one who fucked up, not her. The only hope I had for myself, was to work so that I never fall that low again, to prove that I'm better, much better than that.

I just don't know if I can do it. Soon it will be one year ago that it happened, and I still feel the same guilt and hate. I still think about what happpened and it feels like yesterday. I still hate myself for it, and don't feel that I've made up for my bad karma yet. I'd be lying to you if I don't think about killing myself again. Every other week or so, I just get so low that I break down and can't bring myself to do anything, lost in myself.
My family obviously doesn't know the whole story, and I doubt they ever will. Only me, the people involved, and now you, know the whole story. It's the story I cannot tell.

I'm just a terrible person.

Hey guys, it's me..Just some information...

Just wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive and kicking over here. Been dealing with some personal issues that have resulted in me having to spend some time away from this blog...

This last story I posted was in my Hushmail for a while before I posted it. I was having some reservations and as a result I let it sit there for a while. In the future, I shall add a "NSFW" which means "Not Safe For Work"...This way, if you are at a place where adult content cannot be viewed(at work, at home with the kids around, at school, etc), come back later to read the story as the story will contain adult language or situations.

I don't want anyone to get in trouble reading my blog! So if you see NSFW, then use caution!!

Thanks for all the support people. I appreciate it. Please make sure to keep submitting your stories...You've all got at least one, so if you haven't taken the time yet, please send your story in.

Have a great weekend!!


Transexual oral sex fetish (NSFW)

I have this deep fetish for sucking transsexuals cocks.

I have never been attracted to guys but give me a chick with a dick and I love it.
I find transsexual escorts online and then go to them and have them rape me. I like to role play and act surprised they have a cock. Then they force me to suck them off and I love it when they cum in my mouth.

I am a little cumslut.

I found a wallet and didn't return it. Right before Christmas

While on my way out of an auto-parts store I found a wallet on the ground. Instead of returning in, I jumped in my car and drove away. There was about $500 in it, along with the guy's ID and everything.

I was out of money at the time and it was right before Christmas. I took the money then dropped the wallet back in the parking lot of the store. I figured at least I could return the guys wallet and ID and credit cards and stuff. I still feel bad about this and some days I think about driving by the guys house and giving him the money back.
But I don't and I will probably still feel like shit unless I do something about it.

Name kept secret
Location kept secret

I jacked my ex for a two ounces of weed.

...and I was an asshole for doing it.

She called me and asked me if I had a hook-up for a couple of ounces. At the time I didn't but that didn't stp me from talking shit. I told her I could have her stuff later that night no problem. I met up with her and she gave me the money. After looking her right in her eye and lying to her, I left and drove straight to the liquor store where we bought a couple bottles and began drinking. We partied hard that night, I had no hook-up and I didn't have any intention whatsoever of even trying.
She ended up talking to my homie and the story went that I got busted somehow and was sitting in jail. I continued the lie later when I called her. She knew I was full of shit.

We stopped talking. I heard that the guys who asked her to get the dope, went to her place and took all her furniture and stereo and shit.

I was lower than low. Did I mention she was a single mother at the time? I suddenly feel sick. I am going to go vomit.

It's like the discovery channel

We are only a few degrees removed from primates and with myself and my wife, it shows.

We can spend hours picking at ear other. Plucking errant hairs out, popping pimples, squeezing out blackheads. It's hard to say which position is more comfortable. Being the picker or the pickee.
We often laugh and make ape noises when we catch ourselves in the mirror. We look like we should be on the Discovery Channel with the rest of the primates.

Are we sick or just primal. If feels so damn good we don't want to stop.

Besides, it makes us well groomed!

Mr & Mrs Pickering.
Location kept secret

I found out that the man that molested me is "anxious" to hear from me.

I found this site before Christmas and found it strange to be reading people's confessions and stories and secrets. After reading a bunch I submitted my own story.

Here it is

After I wrote my nasty secret I felt better. It felt strangely wonderful to tell total strangers something that I had never, ever told anyone else. I was finally to put the whole ordeal behind me.

Then my worst nightmare came true.
I just got a call from a relative. Apparently MAO is in town and is "anxious" to get in touch with me. WTF???!?!

That is exactly what I don't need in my fucking life right now.I'm angry. I'm hostile and I'm scared shitless. What so I do?