You don't have javascript enabled. To properly interact with Adult Confessions, please enable javascript on your browser.
Adult Confessions | Women-only |
Women Only
Ladies, this is the place for your own special brand of confession. Did you sleep with your best friend's boyfriend? Did your Aunt Flo visit unexpectedly while you were wearing white pants? Did your boyfriend lose a condom inside you? Did the padding in your bra fall out?

The things you can confess here might fall into other sections, too - but here you have your own place to post. Men, feel free to read and reply, but please, let the ladies do all the posting.

After all, this section is for ... Women Only.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    Ok ladies i need some womanly advise.
    I'm a male with a large penis.
    I've had trouble with the past few girls i've tried to lay. The first girl, at the sight of my manhood had an expression usually only found on tourture victims. After a lot of coaxing she attempt to put it to use. She was only able to get the head and a little bit of shaft in her before she complained of pains and we had to stop.
    The second girl wasn't about to try to sit on it. She gave it a lot of strokes(seems like thats all they can do) and tried to give me head but couldn't get it all in and got frustrated and left.
    The third girl i was prepared for an carried around some K-Y just in case. She was able to get about half of it in her before she started screaming with pain and yelled at me to take it out.
    So women, is it possible to have a penis TOO big? I'd like to think there are some women in this world who will be able to put my penis to use, i do NOT want to get a reduction surgery.

    #8645 — Comments (5) — Jan 7, 2004 at 6:53 PM — That's Juicy! (5) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    I regret trying to be friends with my husband's ex-wife. She is now sueing for more alimony and child support. She is using information I stupidly gave her. We don't mind the money for the kids (we give it anyway so why not just put it on paper), but there is no way that she needs more money for herself.

    #8644 — Comments (1) — Jan 7, 2004 at 6:23 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    i lied to my boyfriend and told him i found out he was cheating on me , there were signs that he was but i never had any real facts about it all, i think i lied about it so much cuz i wanted him to admit something to me!it caused alot of problems i should say i caused alot of problems , i started to beleave my own lies , it has been killing me to know that i have done this,he has gone away,moved on i should say and i am miserable.i think i just wanted him to beg for me to take him back, he did for awayle ,then i told him i wished he was dead ( more than once ) .why should he come back to someone that lies like that and wishes things bad to happen to someone, deep down i knew he dident love me like i loved him ,and i got suspicious and started makin things up to see if he would admit to something maby he was true but i will never know now, i havd made my bed and now i will have to lay in it ,i confessed to him today because i cant carry this around with me anymore ,ialso know i was wrong and what goes around comes around ,i guess i will step up to the plate when that day comes,idont know what is worse ,knowing he will never come back to me ,knowing i did this ,or the day it does come back to me. " this pain in my stomach wont go away,i assume this is punishment for all mistakes i have made,in a world where my actions speak louder than words"

    i broke my own heart.

    #8637 — Comments (1) — Jan 6, 2004 at 10:16 AM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    My ex BF and I see each other WAAAAAAAAAAAY to often for my comfort and I'm especially peeved by the amazing number of similarities that have developed in our lives during the last five years. Tell me if these are coincidences or his sad desperation:

    1. We break up and I move to City X. Three months later, he moves to City X, too.

    2. I enroll in State U for a master's. Next semester, he matriculates. IN THE SAME PROGRAM!!!

    3. I become involves with a fellow grad student from a foreign country. A couple weeks later, he finds an exchange student honey.

    4. I apply for a summer abroad program. He applies, too. I get accepted, but decide to stay and try to finish my masters in 18 months. He also gets accepted, but declines. Reason: "Cheaper to finish school by going straight through).

    5. I met great guy. Fall madly in love and take a leave of absence to move across country to City Z. 6 months later, the ex is also in City Z, living with brand new girlfriend.

    6. Decide to finish degree by commuting back and forth every couple weeks. Ex arranges to do the same.

    7. Great guy and I marry after 2 years. Ex proposes three weeks after he sees our engagement announcement. Same minister, same reception hall.

    8. Go to work for state agency. Guess who gets a job there 4 months later.

    9. I get pregnant. At 5 months, I get a card in the mail with a picture of his wife's very flat belly and an arrow drawn on it with the message "Class of 2021".

    I know it doesn't qualify as stalking, but this isn't normal. What do you think?

    #8632 — Comments (3) — Jan 5, 2004 at 8:03 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    Hi, My name is Kareen. My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, never sit on a public toilet seat." And she'd demonstrate"The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. But by this time, I'd have peed down my leg. And we'd go home.

    That was a long time ago. I've had lots of experience with public toilets since then, but I'm still not particularly fond of public toilets, especially those with powerful, red-eye sensors. Those toilets know when you want them to flush. They are psychic toilets. But I always confuse their psychic ability by following my mother's advice and assuming The Stance. The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full and the pee is burning to be released. This is most likely to occur after watching a full-length feature film. During the "movie pee," it is nearly impossible to hold The Stance. You know what I mean. You drink a two liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still through a three-hour saga because, for God's sake, even if you didn't wipe or wash your hands in the bathroom, you'd still miss the pivotal part of the movie or the second scene, in which they flash the leading man's naked butt. So, you cross your legs and you hold it and you might even cover your lap with a sweater to hide the hand you have down there pushing as much pressure as it can on your aching pee hole. And you hold it until that first credit rolls and you sprint to the bathroom,somewhat already wet and about to totally explode all over your internal organs. And at the bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Mel Gibson's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.

    And you finally your next. You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is still occupied. You hope no one is doing frivolous things behind those stall doors, like blowing her nose or checking the contents of her wallet because despite how hard your clinching every muscle below your belt your pussy is on fire and its definately leaking. Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch but now it doesn't matter. You hang your handbag on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume The Stance.

    Relief, relief, and more relief as your floodgates totally opened allowing the Mississippi to flow. Then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold The Stance as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. Might as well be ready when you are done but the river gushing from your pee hole and washing through your lips just won't end. The toilet paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny napkin you wiped your fingers on after eating buttered popcorn. It would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail. Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work and your pocketbook whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your buttered popcorn napkin in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat as a burst of pee shoots over the front of the toilet onto your clothing and the floor. You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, "You don't know what kind of diseases you could get." And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China. At that point, you give up. You're finished peeing. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point. One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long! as the Mississippi River. You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and say warmly, "Here. You might need this."

    At this time, you see your spouse, who has entered, used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. "What took you so long?" he asks, annoyed. This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home.

    This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have ever had to deal with a public toilet. And it finally explains to all you men what takes us so long. And yes I realize it might be considered yet another pee story but if you have a problem with them piss off and don't read them; I for one like them.

    #8629 — Comments (1) — Jan 5, 2004 at 7:04 AM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    I got my period maybe a day or 2 ago, and I haven't found really nice pads that fit me. My Mom uses Always, and the smallest they have is just so big on me I have to waddle to move around comfy. (I'm just using my ol' pantyliners)Do you know of any brand that has a REALLY small pad? Like, for young teens or something? Please let me know.

    #8612 — Comments (13) — Jan 1, 2004 at 11:37 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    I'm 13 now, and I got my period just a few days after my 13th birthday. It lasted about 3 days, and I haven't gotten it since. (it's been maybe 3 and a half months.) Is this normal? Please answer.

    #8609 — Comments (4) — Jan 1, 2004 at 11:26 PM — That's Juicy! (1) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    Could a tampon pop your cherry? Or is it 2 small? Just wondering.

    #8606 — Comments (1) — Jan 1, 2004 at 11:22 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    I have been married for two years and I think I want a divorce. My husband is like a child. He has a master's degree in chemical enginnering back in India, but he can not keep a job here because he cannot make a single smart decision by himself. He asks my opinion for the simpliest thing like whether he should fill up the car at the station near us or wait until he sees cheaper gas somewhere else. He calls me at work 4 or 5 times a day to ask for driving directions or where things are kept. We are on our 4th bank because he keeps bouncing checks! I married him because I was pregnant, but after the wedding I had a miscarriage. Now, we don;t even have sex anylonger because I'm afraid of bringing more idiots like him into the world. But if we get a divorce he can't stay in the U.S. and he can't go back to India because his family disowned him when we got married because I'm not Hindu.

    #8594 — Comments (6) — Jan 1, 2004 at 9:39 AM — That's Juicy! (2) Remove This.
  • — Women Only —
    Posted by Anonymous

    My sister in law "Jen" has a doctorate in education, but doesn't do a damn thing with it although she has $30,000 in school loans. Instead, all she does is have babies. She is pregnant with her 7th child right now! All her kids are 10 to 11 mos apart. Her husband is work full time, plus two part-time jobs to support them all. I don't know how he has time to get her knocked up.

    Jen just sits at home and lets babysitters take care of the older kids while she breastfeeds or waits for the next brat to be born. Her last 4 preganancies, she's been on bedrest for the last two trimesters. She has a day duty private nurse in case she needs something, but everyone in the family is expected to run dumb errands for her. My husband and his other siblings spend hours every week doing things that she could do without. She called me at work one day to ask me to buy her a box of Popeye's chicken so the babysitter wouldn't have to cook dinner. I told her to call Dominoes.

    I'm also sick of having to go to a baby shower for Jen every year. I don't think someone should have a shower 7 times. She doesn't save anything from the last baby, but the crib. As soon as the kid out grows a piece of clothes, she throws it out. Last week, she sent me a note telling me that she was registered at Target. It told her that I already got the baby a present. Then I went on the internet and made arrangements to have a star named after the baby.

    My in-laws are exhausted trying to help her. That's why they pay for the nurse and babysitter. They've joked that they don't have any more room on their wall for grandkids' pictures. When my other sister-in-law gave birth to her second child, she had her tubes tied and Jen said she felt sorry for her.

    Meanwhile, they're living like pigs, 3 kids in a queen sized bed and 3 cribs in the upstairs hallway. Only three are toilet trained so there are pissy diapers everywhere. She's on her second babysitter because the first one refused to come to work until she cleaned up the house.

    They drive a nasty minivan that has roaches living in it from all the cookie crumbs and french fries the kids have dropped. Once, they left a baby in the supermarket and didn't notice until they got home.

    I think CPS should sterilize her.

    #8591 — Comments (4) — Dec 31, 2003 at 6:21 PM — That's Juicy! (0) Remove This.
Back to Top