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Adult Confessions | Out-of-the-closet |
Out Of The Closet
Coming out of the closet is never an easy thing to do. Where you forced out by an unfortunate circumstance? Did you come out on your own terms. What and how did you finally come out? To who?
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Posted by Anonymous

    The few times I've ever gotten a massage, by the end of it, I am so turned on, I can barely walk. It's all that soft/strong, kneading by a woman's hands. Zowee. And when she gets up, way up to my thighs, I have to bite my lip. I never want a man to massage me, I'd probably have screaming orgasms.

    #1145 — Comments (1) — Mar 11, 2001 at 8:41 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Posted by Anonymous

    My boyfriend had this massive collection of pornographic videos in his closet. When he wasn't home, I would watch a bunch and just beat off like a fiend, then put them back.

    He would ask me to watch them with him as foreplay and I'd pull this, "Ugh gross" act with him, I don't really know why. I guess I thought that enjoying them was whorish and I didn't want him to think I was a whore.

    Some day I'll come out of this closet.

    #1141 — Comments (0) — Mar 9, 2001 at 1:24 AM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Posted by Anonymous

    Coming out of the closet on this one ... its about being sexual in public, but in a way that no one knows, or at least, we think no one knows.

    One of my biggest fantasies is to sit in a quiet booth in a restaurant, preferrably not up on a riser and definitely with a table cloth ... and then giving and getting a hand-job right there in the restaurant with all those other people sitting and eating their dinners. Watching all the other diners and the waitstaff as we are sitting with our fingers playing with each other, trying to keep ourselves nonchalant, trying to stifle moans or releases... I'll spare the gory, sexy details, though :)

    #1140 — Comments (3) — Mar 7, 2001 at 11:57 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Posted by Anonymous

    They are finicky and they don't love you or they pretend not to, nor do they demonstrate their undying love for you like dogs do. Furthermore, I am highly suspect of men who have cats. I am highly suspect of men who have lap dogs. I don't quite know yet what it means, but whatever it means, it can't be good.

    My roommate had a cat, and for the most part, all three of us stayed the hell away from each other.

    I had this dream one night that my teeth were falling out of my head. This always makes me panic because my mother has this superstition that this particular dream means someone close to you is about to die. So what you have to do is take a living thing, like a plant, and bite into it, and whatever bad death karma is lurking in your brain is transferred into the plant, which dies instead of whoever. I know this is silly, as are all of my mother's superstitions, but I confess, I am not a TOTAL nonbeliever.

    So I get this dream, I wake up in a panic, and we don't have a single plant that's living anymore. But I see that frickin cat.

    Okay I bit it on the tail, not hard, but hard enough. The cat whacked me in the face, but I deserved it. But according to my mother's superstition, I might have saved somebody's life.

    So there.

    #1138 — Comments (0) — Mar 1, 2001 at 6:41 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Out of the Closet —
    Posted by Anonymous

    And I am, for the most part, a dog lover. Okay, I love big dogs. I don't like little, yippy, rat fink dogs. Except Jack Russell Terriers. Those are the only litte dogs I like.

    I have always hated her dog, I will never love her dog. She thinks I have loved and cared for that piece of shit and I never have.

    He stinks, he is annoying, he can't heel, he jumps all over the sofa, he begs at the table, he eats my other dogs' food, he has snatched a cookie out of my kid's hand, drawing blood in the process, and he doesn't respect the chain of command, which in dog world means you heel to the Alpha, which is my female dog.

    Of course, my female dog tries to reinforce her authority by kicking the shit out of my sister's dog on more than one occasion.

    All the while, I pretend to my sister that I'm doing everything I can to keep these dogs apart. But right before I kicked that mutt out of the house, my female dog got into it yet again with my sister's dog, and you know what, I didn't jump immediately to his defense. I really just let my dog have at it for a good five minutes, while I went to get the hose from the reel at the side of the house, walked around to the backyard, where I then proceeded to squirt my dog with the nozzle on "Jet Stream."

    My sister's dog gets a nasty infection that weekend. He lies (lays?) listlessly around the house, and I just wish him dead. Of course, my conscience gets the better of me, and Sunday night, I take the dog to the animal hospital, where he must be repaired and medicated to the tune of $350.00, which I pay for because by now, I feel really really bad.

    But not so bad that when my sister comes back from her ski trip, I tell her the mutt must go.

    He did. Now there is peace and tranquility in my home.

    #1122 — Comments (3) — Mar 1, 2001 at 12:54 AM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
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